


Diary of a New Life Together

by hidden_inside_of_you



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 02, TWs in author's note, i had to put my post-season2 emotions somewhere, so i put them in this fic, written before the special so that hasn't been taken into account
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 205,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidden_inside_of_you/pseuds/hidden_inside_of_you
Summary: Set after the Cluster rescues Wolfgang from BPO. A day-by-day account of reconciliation and recovery. Canon-compliant with S1 & S2 but NOT with the finale. Not a sequel to Unspoken Chemistry.





	1. July 8, 9:04 p.m.

Kala presses her hand gently to Wolfgang’s arm as he stirs uneasily in his sleep. She looks over her shoulder, eyes bright with worry, and calls softly for Riley. She appears in the doorway to the room. They’re staying at her father’s extra bungalow in Iceland. It’s large, very warm, furnished with blankets and books and two fireplaces. It looks over the ocean, which tonight is as reflective and still as glass. It would have been somewhat simpler to go to Paris, but the flat that Rajan selected was too small for all of them to stay in, and after what they went through, none of them were willing to be apart.

“I think he needs more...” Kala trails off, gesturing vaguely at a tray stacked with IV bags and medicine. She’s too exhausted to explain properly.  

Riley nods, quickly handing Kala a new bag. Kala gets stiffly to her feet to replace the old bag with the new, turns the dial a few times, and glances at Wolfgang. She sees him relax again. His eyelids flicker less frequently, and his breathing slows. She sighs in relief and looks at Riley.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Riley, more than anyone, felt the desire to stay close to Kala and Wolfgang during the first few days. She remembers being at BPO herself, and though she endured nothing like what Wolfgang did, though it’s incomprehensible to her that he’s even alive, she finds herself able to relate. She may not have been subjected to pain of that kind, but she distinctly recalls the inhumanity and terror of a place like that.

“How is he?” she asks softly.

Kala’s grown to love and need Riley’s musical tone of voice in the last few days. It’s one of the only things that calms her.

“It’s hard to tell,” Kala admits quietly. “I’m too afraid to wake him up. I’m afraid he’ll be in too much pain. But like this...” She shakes her head. “It’s impossible to tell.”

Riley nods, eyebrows stitched with worry.

“I’m afraid if I don’t wake him up he’ll get worse,” Kala goes on, eyes welling up. “But I’m also afraid that if I do...we’ll realize there’s nothing to be done.”

“Brain damage?” asks Riley, as gently as she can.

Kala nods, eyes fixed on Wolfgang. It’s devastating to look at him in his condition, but even harder not to. “Bodies are not meant to endure that kind of electricity,” she explains to Riley. “Not without damage.” It’s hard to speak without breaking down. Her lips tremble, and tears threaten to fall, pooling along her dark lashes. But she blinks them back, determined not to cry until she has a real reason to, praying that reason doesn’t come. “But there’s moments.” She sniffles and runs her hand softly through Wolfgang’s hair. “He squeezed my hand this morning.”

Riley steps over to her, hugging her from behind. “He knows you’re here, I’m sure it’s helping.” She rests her head against Kala’s. “When my mother was sick, even in the last few weeks when she didn’t really recognize me...she recognized my presence. She wasn’t in so much pain that way.”

Kala nods again, squeezing Riley’s hand. “Thank you.”

“You should sleep,” adds Riley.

Kala smiles weakly. “Oh, I’d like to, but that’s been difficult.”

Riley nods. “I know. But you have to try. Maybe a shower?”

Kala agrees reluctantly, and she does feel marginally better by the time she showers and puts on pajamas. She takes up her post next to Wolfgang. Riley and Nomi have both suggested she sleep somewhere without the reminders of what happened, but she can’t bear to be apart from him, and Capheus and Sun both express to her that they understand this. So she stays in the same bed as Wolfgang, sleeping on and off, waking up with the hope he’ll be better, struggling to fall asleep again when she sees he’s not.

Tonight, she’s brave enough to sleep with her arm around him. She’s been too afraid she’ll hurt him to do this until now, but based on his body language, on the numbers on his monitor, he’s not in too much pain. So she shapes her body around his, pressing a warm kiss to his shoulder, and then she takes his hand. It’s loose and unresponsive in hers, and he still smells vaguely of BPO...lifeless, chemical, cold. She could cry thinking about how he used to smell. How she would breathe in his scent like a drug whenever he held her. She wonders what else has been taken from him.

She’s about to sit up, giving up on sleep for at least a few hours, when he squeezes her hand. She lifts her head up so quickly that her neck spasms. Her eyes dart over him, searching for a sign of recognition. And he squeezes her hand tighter, and very slowly, with great effort, turns his head and nudges her arm with his nose.

It’s nearly impossible not to sob on impulse. She sits up, running her hands down his arms, gently cupping his face, checking that he’s whole.

“Can you hear me?” she whispers, eyes wide as they scan his face. “Wolfgang?”

He sets his jaw, seeming to remember what it is to speak. Then he nods softly.

“Are you really here?” he mumbles.

Kala wipes her eyes, laughing and weeping. “Yes, yes.”

He smiles slightly. “Good.”

She dries her face on her shirt, incoherent, and finally calls to the others in a voice that cracks and breaks from disuse, “Oh my God, come here! Come look!”


	2. July 9, 10:26 a.m.

Wolfgang has been uneasily awake for a full day. Kala and Riley decided to lower his morphine to pull him out of the drug-induced unconsciousness he’d been in since escaping BPO, but this wasn’t a simple decision. Riley was surprised what a difference a few milligrams could make, but Kala knew the risk. She tried to explain to Wolfgang why they turned back the dial. She tried to make him understand that morphine is toxic, that his body wouldn’t recover normally if they kept him on such a high dosage. It was hard to tell if he heard her. He had spoken very little since first waking. 

She has to assume he understands. She hopes he can forgive her for it, because if the pain she experiences indirectly is this intense, she can barely imagine how he feels. She isn’t sure what is worse: the sharp, deep pounding in her head, the burning in her chest, or the raw ache that runs in a current down her right leg. It would be easier if she could disassociate the pain from the violence that caused it, but with each throb she remembers the hot, blinding electricity; she remembers how helpless she was, how sure she felt that he was going to die.

All of them feel it, and most of them spend the time in front of one of the fireplaces, sharing blankets, holding each other, taking turns as caretakers. But Kala, who feels it more than the rest, stays in Wolfgang’s room. Her breath comes in short gasps and she has to fight the urge to throw up. Wolfgang squeezes her hand very tightly, jaw clenched, breath shallow. She’s sure he’s never been in this much pain before. She certainly hasn’t.

Will, who can’t stand to stay still, passes by their room several times.

“Are you sure you can’t give him something?” he asks for the third time.

Kala shakes her head. “His body needs to heal itself.”

Will nods. “Okay. I thought he was getting better.”

“He is,” Kala says softly. “He’s just in pain.”

Will laughs humorlessly and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I can tell.” Then he glances at her. “How are you doing? With Riley, anything she feels is always more intense for me, so...I figured something similar happens with you guys.”

Kala manages a weak smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Will nods, getting his answer.

That evening, while Kala is tentatively eating some skyr and hugging a heating pad to her chest, she feels Wolfgang’s fingers on her wrist. She glances at him, touching her tongue to each corner of her mouth to clean up, and sets the skyr aside. His expression hasn’t changed, but she senses that he’s awake. She assumes he’s simply asking her to come closer, so she reassures him by putting her hand on his chest. But then he tightens his grip on her wrist, using her for balance, and sits up. 

He stays very still for a moment, eyes screwed shut in pain. She watches, holding her breath, and his body eventually relaxes. He lets out a big breath, and Kala scans his expression for signs of improvement. He meets her eyes and lets his fingers drag down her wrist so he can take her hand.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

“Don’t worry about me,” she replies softly.

She didn't expect their first in-person conversations to be like this. It's difficult not to compare this to everything she imagined would happen in Paris. She knows she barely had a chance to think about Paris, but during the short time that it felt real, while she was packing and printing plane tickets, she had formed a clear picture of what their first conversation would be like. She played it over and over in her mind until it was so familiar it felt like she had already lived it. Now, sitting next to him, she can barely remember the words, let alone how she felt. 

“How do you feel today?” she asks. 

He shrugs in response. 

She nods. “Do you think you can eat something?”   


“Yeah,” he says, seeming surprised.

Kala hesitates. “Maybe we can get you out of this room...”

“Where are we?” he asks.

“Iceland,” she whispers.

“Why?” he murmurs in response.

“Riley’s father offered us a place,” she tells him.

“But--”

“It’s not dangerous here anymore,” Kala explains. 

“How long have we been here?”

“Just a few days.”   


He wrinkles his brow. “What did you tell Rajan?”

“I told him what I needed to,” she replies, running her fingers through his hair. 

Wolfgang nods, pressing his face towards Kala’s touch. She rubs her thumb lightly over his cheek and he kisses her palm. They both breathe in, adjusting to each other’s presence. Until today, the fear and pain dimmed the feeling. It’s only now that they notice the difference. Kala finds it difficult to describe. Before, when he would visit, he felt indistinguishable from her own mind, her own body. Most of the time, except for the one night they spent together, his touch felt like her own touch. But now, he’s undeniably separate from her, and inexplicably still a part of her, and she feels caught. The only relief is when she’s holding him. 

She shifts slightly closer, putting her arms around him, resting her head gently on his. She closes her eyes when he hugs her against him. They stay like this for a long time, until they notice a noise in the doorway. It’s Will, on his hourly pass by the room. Wolfgang has caught glimpses of him and the others several times, but it just now occurs to him that they weren’t the kind of glimpses he’s used to. It hits him that Will and everyone else is here, actually here, just like Kala. 

“Oh, hey,” says Will, brightening. “Not to interrupt, but you look better.” 

He enters the room, and Kala patiently changes positions so she’s not clinging to Wolfgang quite so tightly in front of Will. 

“Like, loads better,” Will goes on, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” says Wolfgang.    


“Yeah, wouldn’t guess so,” says Will. “You should eat something, though. Riles made a cobbler and Lito’s making...”

“Albondigas,” remembers Kala. 

“That,” says Will, “whatever that is. It’s not healthy to have pain killers on an empty stomach.”

“He’s right,” agrees Kala, adding hesitantly, “And I think we should get you walking around.”

Wolfgang glances down at his broken leg. “That...might be difficult.”

“We have crutches,” Will says cheerfully. 

Wolfgang looks around at the makeshift hospital room they’ve created. “Yeah, where did you get all this stuff?”

“Nomi raided a hospital,” Will says, unconcerned. 

Wolfgang gives a weak smile. “Of course she did.”

“She would have kidnapped a doctor, just for you, but luckily we have Kala Dandekar.”

“I’m not a doctor,” Kala says immediately, but she smiles. 

“No, you’re better,” says Will, getting to his feet. “Okay, crutches, hold on...”

Kala looks worriedly at Wolfgang. “You can stay in bed, you don’t have to--”

He interrupts by shaking his head. “I can’t stand this anymore.”

She nods. “Okay, but if you get too tired, or you feel sick--”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her.

She smiles softly and walks her fingers along his hand. “You know you can’t blame me for worrying because if I remember correctly, ‘I’ll be fine’  _ is _ what got us into this mess.

Wolfgang actually grins. “Yeah, that’s my specialty.”

Kala laughs, meeting his eyes.

“Okay,” Will says, returning and resting some crutches against the bedframe. He glances at Wolfgang. “This...might not be fun.”

“Yeah, don’t imagine it will be,” agrees Wolfgang, 

Kala gets up, making room for him to get out of bed, and she and Will help him up. Any movement of his leg is excruciating and he has to stop several times, wincing, digging his nails into his palm. He finally steadies himself on the crutches, breathing hard. 

“What was the point of breaking my leg?” he grumbles. “Did they think I was going to try to walk out?”

Will and Kala exchange an understanding glance. She wheels the IV around the bed, making sure nothing gets tangled, and then the three of them start down the hallway. Kala holds her breath, nervous, but then she sees that Wolfgang is surprisingly capable. She hides a smile as they walk, and as they reach the den, the others turn and look at them.

Riley and Capheus exchange a thrilled grin, Lito and Nomi both cheer, and Sun grins blindingly. They all hop to their feet. It’s impossible for Kala not to smile now. 

“Look who’s up,” says Will, glancing at Wolfgang.

Wolfgang doesn’t like this much attention and he avoids looking directly at anyone. Kala notices how stiffly he’s holding himself, how restless he is, and she realizes he must be embarrassed and ashamed that he made them all leave their lives and rescue him. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll be able to relax, but before she can reach out to reassure him, everyone has gathered around. They wordlessly embrace him, until he’s in the center of them all, until everyone has had a chance to press their hands to him. He closes his eyes, unable to focus on anything but this; their warmth is healing, and each touch feels like a prayer. The relief of being reunited is nearly overwhelming. This is the first time in weeks that any of them, especially Wolfgang, have felt safe. 

“Thank you,” Wolfgang murmurs after a long time.

“No one gets left behind,” says Sun firmly, speaking for all of them. 

Wolfgang nods. They stay close like this, all unwilling to let go. Wolfgang finds Kala’s hand in the mix and squeezes it gently. She meets his eyes and they exchange a small, determined smile.


	3. July 9, 8:38 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang get a moment alone.

Wolfgang has trouble staying warm, despite several blankets and a place in front of the fire. It may be July, but Iceland is still chilly, and after being injured so badly, his body’s energy is focused on healing rather than heat. Kala sits nearby, but with everyone in the room, is reluctant to do more than hold his hand. She wishes the others would catch on, but she can’t blame them for wanting to stay nearby.

It’s a comfortable evening inside. Lito made soup and put on an old movie. Riley is listening to music, sharing earbuds with Will. Sun is asleep on the floor with a tiny smile on her face, and Capheus is reading a comic book that Riley’s dad must have stashed away. Nomi is catching up with Amanita on her phone. Kala simply watches Wolfgang, too distracted by his pain to give any attention to a book or a movie. After a while, Nomi notices that Kala hasn’t taken her eyes off of him, and she glances around at the others, who are oblivious. She rolls her eyes affectionately and gets to her feet, clearing her throat as she goes into another room. This does the trick, and soon, Kala and Wolfgang are left alone.

Kala has never been uncomfortable around Wolfgang. Even at first, when she was fairly sure he was a dangerous apparition intent on seeing her naked, she wouldn’t have said she was uncomfortable around him. But right now, everything that has gone unsaid and unpromised weighs heavily on her. She wants to slip back into his room in Berlin and continue their conversation about Paris as if nothing has changed. But things have changed, and she knows it may take the rest of their lives to fully reconcile the trauma of the last few days.

“Wolfgang?” she says gently.

He glances at her, then looks around, surprised that they are alone.

Kala smiles slightly. “I think they wanted to give us a moment...”

He nods, looking down. He’s even less sure than she is how to start.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen...” he finally says. 

Kala narrows her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He shrugs. “You married Rajan and I didn’t know what to do with myself so I did what I always do, started lighting fires for fun.”

Kala looks down with a small smile. “You couldn’t have known what would happen, and you can’t convince me to blame you for any of this.

He shakes his head softly, also smiling. “I don’t deserve you."

She extends her hand and tangles their fingers together. “That isn’t true.”

He wants to argue with her but doesn’t have the energy to. So instead he says, “I didn’t think our first meeting would be like this.”

Kala has to laugh. “No.” Then she smiles gently. “What did you think it would be like?”

“I knew as soon as I saw you everything would make sense and I’d know what to say.”

She hums in thought. “I had no idea what I would say...I started rehearsing it all.”

He glances at her. “Were you nervous?”

She smiles at her lap and shakes her head. “No. But I knew it would be one of the most important moments in my life. I wanted to say the right things.”

He hesitates, and then softly replies, “What would you have said?”

“I would have been so surprised that you’re actually real,” she whispers. “I’m sure I would have been too stunned to say much at all.”

He smiles. “Well, I don’t think we would have done much talking anyway.”

Kala presses her lips together, fighting a grin. “Oh, is that right?”

He meets her eyes again and nods. She gives into a laugh and shoves him lightly. But then her expression softens.

“I think you’re right,” she murmurs. “I think it would have been easier to express everything without words.” She sniffles suddenly. “I love you so much. I’m not sure words will ever be enough.”

He stares at her. Then he takes her face in his hands and presses a soft kiss to her mouth. She breathes in sharply, shocked at the difference. Even in her head, with thousands of miles between them, there was nothing better than kissing him...now, together, she realizes that was a shadow of the real thing. She almost moans on impulse wondering what sex will be like.

She presses closer, kissing him more deeply, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. Then she puts her hands on either side of his face, pulling him against her, and he squeezes her waist. Tears stream down her cheeks and she smiles helplessly against his lips.

“God,” she murmurs. “I thought you were going to die.”

He nods, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I know, but I'm right here.”

She runs her hands down his arms and shakes her head, overwhelmed. “I thought we were all going to die.”

He nods again. Then he takes a moment to wipe his thumb under each of her eyes and kisses the side of her mouth reassuringly.  “I’m okay, we’re okay.”

She nods too, and then she tilts her face up towards his. “Keep kissing me.”

He chuckles and kisses her again; she smiles into the kiss and tucks her legs over his lap, and he thumbs gently over her thigh. They stay like this for a long time, getting drunk on each other’s touch, until finally, Wolfgang pauses, brushing his fingers over the ring on her left hand. She pulls back slightly and looks at him.

She glances down at her ring. “I suppose I should talk to Rajan...”

Wolfgang watches her, holding his breath. “Are you leaving him?”

“I made my decision when I agreed to go to Paris with you,” she murmurs, nodding.

He breathes out heavily, surprised. “I wasn't sure.”

“I can't stay married to him, Wolfgang,” she replies softly. “I don't want to have an affair with you. That’s not good enough.”

He can’t help but smirk. “Well, you are having an affair with me.”

She eyes him playfully. “It’s not an affair...”

“You said it’s not a fantasy, either,” he replies.

She shakes her head. “No, neither of those words seem appropriate.” She pauses, meeting his eyes. “I always felt like yours, just yours.”

He smiles. “Now you can be.”

She nods. “Yes, I can be.”

He kisses her once more. Then she looks down, smiling.

“I know what I would have said to you in Paris,” she murmurs.

He brightens. “What?”

“I would have asked... _why_...you love me.”

He raises an eyebrow softly. “Why I love you?”

She nods, and quietly replies, “We barely know each other. I know it’s been two years, but when have we ever...talked?”

He starts to smile. “Don’t you think we’ve gone through enough to know each other?”

She smiles too. “In a way. But what’s my favorite food? What was my favorite movie when I was little?”

He shrugs. “Those are details."

“Don’t you want to know details?” she asks.

He searches her eyes and suddenly smiles. He nods. “Yeah, I want to know everything about you.”

She smiles too. “After we first connected...I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to know every detail about your life. It _consumed_ me.”

“I tried not to think about you,” he tells her honestly. “The more I knew, the more I wanted you. Details were dangerous.”

Her eyes settle thoughtfully on the sea outside, and she murmurs, “Before I knew you better, I created whole stories for you. Who your family was, what you did...”

“I’m sure you came up with something better than the real thing,” he says.

Her expression darkens and she nods. She takes a moment to play with her fingers in her lap, and then she looks at him. “You know that I understand, don’t you?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Everything you did,” she says quietly.

He surprises her when he nods. She breathes out and takes his hands, her brow wrinkled, worried and hopeful at the same time. 

“We can let that be the past,” she murmurs.

“I think that’s all we can do if we don’t want to...go crazy,” he replies.

She nods. “It can be us now. Just us.”

She glances once more at the ring on her finger, takes a decisive breath, and slips it off. She holds it in her palm for a moment, staring at it, and then sets it gently on a nearby table.

“Will you be okay if I leave?” she asks. “I want to talk to him, to my parents...”

“Are you going to tell him the truth?”

“Yes,” says Kala seriously. “I owe him at least that.”

“You’re going to tell him about me?” Wolfgang asks, more quietly.

She meets his eyes, pressing her lips together nervously. She nods. “I am. I’ll explain what I am to him as best I can...”

“Is that safe?”

She looks down, smiling thoughtfully, and says in response, “Perhaps not. But do you think he’ll believe me?”

“No,” admits Wolfgang.

She nods. “I don’t think so either. But it’s the only way I can explain you.”

He leans forward. “What are you going to say?”

“That I’m in love with you, that I have been for some time...that I always thought of you when I was with him...”

“That we’ve slept together?”

Kala nods again. “I was going to, yes.”

Wolfgang takes a moment to answer. Finally, he says, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

She shakes her head immediately. “That isn’t Rajan.”

“Are you sure?” he murmurs.

“Positive,” she whispers, but her lips tremble slightly and she adds, “but I want you with me the whole time."

He nods, pulling her closer. “Of course.”

She nods too, resting her nose against his. Then she smiles.

“Tomorrow?” she asks.

He gently takes her face in his hands and kisses her. “Tomorrow.”


	4. July 10, 2:06 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala smells nice.

Kala sets off for Mumbai early the next morning. She spends the pre-dawn hours packing a small bag and arranging flights. Wolfgang stays close - almost clingy - as she darts around the room they’ve grown accustomed to sharing over the past few days. Already, it feels more like home than any place she’s ever known, and she’s reluctant to leave.

“I’ll be okay,” she murmurs as she stashes an extra toothbrush in her bag.

He nods, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom.

“I will,” she says.

“Repeating it doesn’t make it true,” he responds.

She glares, lingering over her bag while holding some shampoo.

He smiles, pleased with himself, then stretches out a hand. “Let me help.”

“Wolfgang, you can barely walk,” she replies, fitting the shampoo next to the toothbrush. When she turns and sees how hurt he looks, she sighs and walks over to him. She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Print my plane ticket?”

He nods, giving her a quick squeeze before going in search of Nomi, and by extension, a computer.

Kala finishes packing, briefly transported to the exhilarating hour she spent packing for Paris...it occurs to her that the clothes and items she has with her now were intended for Paris, and it’s suddenly difficult to breathe. When Wolfgang returns, he catches her standing still by the window, hugging herself, staring. He doesn’t want to startle her, so he puts a hand gently on her waist; then, noticing her soften at the touch, pulls her into a soothing hug.

She lets out a long-held sigh, then glances up at him, turning her face so her nose just touches his jaw.

“After this,” she says quietly. “I want to go to Paris with you.”

He nods solemnly. “We’ll go.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, so he holds her tighter. She sniffles, unsure, but then he kisses the side of her head and a genuine smile breaks over her lips.

Then he says, “Are you packed?”

She nods in agreement.

“Then you should sleep,” he says.

She nods again, and he guides her to the bed nearby, which she crumples onto sleepily. He chuckles and she reaches her hand up, searching for his so she can pull him into bed next to her. Ten minutes later, warm underneath several spare blankets, she presses closer to him.

“Is it strange we’re sleeping together when we haven’t...?”

“Had sex,” he guesses, quickly adding, “no. And we have.”

“I mean in person.”

“Well, if you’d feel better about it, we can take care of that right now--”

She giggles weakly. “Answer me.”

“No,” he says more softly, twining his fingers with hers, nudging the back of her thigh with one of his knees. “Whenever I told you I always wanted you...I meant all of you, all of this.”

She turns over, searching his eyes, her own caramel irises reflecting in his gray-blue ones. Then she nods hard, pressing against him, arms around his shoulders, legs tangled with his, as close as possible. He tightens his arms around her waist and notices her take two quick breaths, steadying herself, touched by his honesty.

“I don’t want to go,” she admits.

“I don’t want you to,” he agrees.

“It’s just for a day,” she says sleepily, trying to convince herself. “And you’re safe here.”

He nods, moving her hair out of her face. He watches as her expression softens in sleep, consumed by her like a slow fire he noticed too late to put out. Her alarm rings sooner than he expected, and it’s a blur as she showers, dresses, kisses him goodbye quickly, and gets into a taxi. He suspects she distanced herself from the full impact of saying goodbye, whether unconsciously or on purpose, because the experience would be too painful.  

At the airport, she receives a text as she’s boarding her plane which changes her plans.

_Rajan, 12:16 p.m. -- I’m sorry if this is inconvenient but I have to go to Paris this afternoon. What are the chances you could meet me there instead?_

Kala’s eyes flash around the airport.

_Kala, 6:17 a.m. -- Let me see if I can change flights._

_Rajan, 12:17 p.m. -- Very sorry. Let me know._

Paris. _Paris?_ She didn’t want to set foot in that city by herself. Much less with Rajan. She hesitates. Then, considering how quickly Wolfgang is recovering, wondering if he can join her soon, she asks a nearby attendant how to change flights. Two hours and several coffees later, she’s seated on the 8:23 from Reykjavik to Paris.

She wraps her scarf tightly around herself, eyes fixed out the window, as the plane pulls out.

“Kala,” says Wolfgang from the seat over, startling her.

Her eyes widen, unspokenly questioning his presence.

“I can’t leave you alone right now,” he explains.

She nods unsurely, then quickly whispers, “He’s in Paris, he wants me to meet him there.” She looks away, head down, brow stitched in thought. “I didn’t want to go without you.”

He takes her hand out of her lap and tangles their fingers together. “I’m coming with you.”

Kala can’t help but soften and smile. “You know what I mean.”

He nods, also smiling. “I’ll meet you there soon.”

Kala worries herself for a moment by running her hands over his arms and his chest. “I don’t know how soon you can travel.”

“It’s just a broken leg and some burns,” he says.

Kala breathes out through her nose, considering. Then she nods. “You _are_ doing better.”

“Too bad Will won’t let me go,” he jokes, then glances over his shoulder, laughing. “Now he’s yelling at me for saying that.”

Kala giggles and presses closer. Then she gasps softly and looks around.

“Oh dear. I look like I’m talking to myself, don’t I?”

He nods. “Haven’t you gotten used to that yet?”

“No,” she says firmly. “Daya and my auntie teased me _terribly_ when they caught me at it once.”

Wolfgang chuckles, watching her. Then he nudges his nose against hers, needing contact, and rests his head on her shoulder.

“Can I stay here for a while?”

“You don’t have to ask..."

He hums contently, then puts his arms around her waist and snugs her against him.

“You smell like almonds,” he informs her.

She smiles widely, eyes crinkling, and tilts her head so her hair dangles in his face. “It’s my shampoo. Do you like?”

He pops his eyebrows, telling her he does, and she shakes her head softly and puts her arm around his shoulders. It’s strange to hold him because, for years now, he’s always held her. He’s kept her pieces together. It’s strange, but she likes it.

“See,” she murmurs after a moment.

“See what?” he asks sleepily.

“Details are important,” she replies. “You know that I use almond shampoo now.”

“I know that you use almond shampoo,” he says, then draws an imaginary checkmark in the air.

She laughs loudly at the gesture, her fingers wandering along his shoulder, eventually carding through his hair. She notices his breathing slow -- she suspects he barely slept last night -- and decides to join him for a nap, so she leans her head on his, and soon drifts off.


	5. July 10, 5:02 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala faces a difficult conversation with Rajan. Wolfgang makes plans of his own.

By the time Kala reaches central Paris, Wolfgang is out of reach in a drug-induced sleep in Iceland. Riley noticed him pacing the kitchen, presumably sharing Kala’s anxiety as she made her way through the baggage claim, into a taxi, and towards the city. Seeing him stumble out of pain and exhaustion, she gently suggested he sleep until Kala was actually meeting with Rajan.

In Paris, Kala is too distracted to take in the views of the city that she spent weeks fantasizing about. She keeps her gaze focused on her lap as the taxi winds through the city streets, thumbs digging into her phone as she waits for a text.

_ Rajan, 5:04 p.m. -- I’m at the cafe now. Where are you? _

_ Kala, 5:04 p.m. -- In a taxi. _

_ Kala, 5:05 p.m -- Rajan...can we meet in a more private place? _

She clicks her phone so the display fades to black, then runs her hand worriedly through her hair. She knows Wolfgang needs to recover, but she would feel more sure of herself if he was next to her right now.

_ Rajan, 5:05 p.m. -- We can. Why? _

Kala sighs softly and puts her phone to her ear after dialing. 

“Kala?” he answers in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I don’t like to text.”

“I know,” he says warmly. “What’s going on?”

“Rajan, this...” She stops in surprise, seeing Sun in the seat next to her, dressed in a black tank and shorts, her hands still wrapped from practice. Sun nods gently at her and she collects herself. “This is a serious conversation. I would prefer to be alone.”

A pause. “Okay. We can meet at the flat.”

“How about your hotel?” she asks, assuming he chose a hotel closer to where he does his business dealings in the financial center.

“Why not the flat?” he wonders.

“Please, Rajan, I’ll explain,” says Kala, trying to keep her voice from pitching in frustration. 

“Okay, my hotel,” he agrees. 

He gives her the address and gets off the phone with a soft, confused goodbye. Kala breathes out slowly, tucking her phone into her purse, and then leans her head back on the seat. Sun follows her example, also leaning back, her knees pulled up to her chest.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.

Kala wipes her nose and shrugs gently. 

“Are you worried he won’t believe you,” Sun goes on, “or that he will?”

Kala sniffles, wipes her nose again, and actually chuckles. 

“I’m not sure that I’m worried,” she explains. “To be honest, I’m...ashamed.”

Sun knits her brow. “Ashamed?”

“I married him knowing I loved someone else,” says Kala, resting her face in her hand, looking out of the fogged-over window. “I should have been honest.”

“I’m not sure you knew,” murmurs Sun. “At least, not in a way that mattered. I knew...that I should not have gone to prison. I knew that I could not take my brother’s place and that I could not forgive him. But, I didn’t  _ know _ I knew until after I had already made my choices.”

“I knew that moving to London wouldn’t make me miss Magnus and Luna any less,” adds Riley, appearing in the front of the taxi and turning her head over her shoulder to look at Kala. “But I didn’t  _ know _ until I moved.”

“I knew I could never learn to live with my mother,” chimes in Nomi in the middle seat. “But I tried, for years.”

“Some things can be true,” says Sun, “without us realizing that they are true, or how they or true, or what it means that they are true.”

Kala looks around at all of them, eyes bright and heavy, and finally nods.

Then she whispers, “I don’t want to hurt him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“He loves you, you love someone else, you’re going to hurt him,” says Sun firmly. “But it will mean something that you don’t want to hurt him.”

“I could have saved him all this pain,” she replies.

“How?” asks Nomi. “You had already agreed to marry Rajan when you met Wolfgang.”

“I agree,” says Riley softly. “I think this pain was inevitable.” 

“Yes, but...I married him, and cheated on him...”

“Did you?” asks Riley.

Kala turns slightly pink. “It was...spontaneous.”

Nomi grins and shakes her head gently.

“But it’s worse, we planned to go to Paris together, and I would have still been married to Rajan...”

“He knew by then your marriage was  over ,” says Sun.

“We may have been...struggling...but it wasn’t _over_ ,” says Kala. Then she runs her hand through her hair and covers her mouth, overwhelmed. She forces herself to nod. “It was. It was over the moment he bought the flat. But that doesn’t make what we would have done right.”

“But you didn’t meet him,” Riley points out. “And Kala, you may have made a promise, but you were coerced, and confused.”

Nomi nods in agreement, adding, “And you’re Sensate...that’s not something he’s predisposed to understand. I was nervous to explain this to Neets, and that’s  _ Neets _ . She already believes in things with no clear explanations.”

“And, you know I say this with love,” adds Riley, “but you fell in love with Wolfgang, and nothing about him is simple or reassuring.”

Kala gives her a small smile. “Well, no...”

“As much as you love him, he didn’t make it easy,” Nomi agrees.

Riley smiles suddenly. “He makes it easy now, though, huh?”   


Kala blushes and nods. “He’s been sweet lately, yes.”

“Well, he  _ is _ taking some serious meds,” jokes Nomi.

Sun shoves her. “Nomi!”

Kala smiles widely, looking around at them all again. Her breath catches in her throat as the taxi slows to a stop in front of a large urban hotel.

“I don’t think he expects this conversation to be a reunion,” murmurs Riley reassuringly. “Just breathe.”

“We’ll all be with you,” adds Sun.

Riley nods. “I’ll get the boys...”

“Speak from your heart,” says Nomi, squeezing Kala’s arm.

Kala nods, swallowing hard, then pulls her bag close to her body, steps out of the taxi when the hotel attendant opens the door, and makes her way under an arch and into the lobby. She goes to the front desk, explains she’s Mrs. Rasal, and steps into an elevator. She looks down at herself, smoothing the blue and white calico sundress she chose for the occasion (her favorite colors, comforting) and glances up to find her Cluster around her. Wolfgang presses close to her, unspeaking, stiff with worry. She grips his hand. The rest gather behind the two of them, and all eight leave the elevator like a tidal swell.

Kala finds her way to Rajan’s suite and stands in front of the door. She tucks her hair behind her ears, letting a slow breath out of her nose, and grips her bag.

“Knock, get it over with,” says Wolfgang after a while.

“Give her a moment,” says Lito softly.

“Won’t make it any easier,” replies Wolfgang.

“Wolfgang--” begins Riley, but Kala interrupts.

“No, it’s alright,” she murmurs, then knocks sharply. “He’s right.” 

She hears footsteps on the other side of the door -- she sets her jaw, heart pounding -- and only has to wait several seconds before Rajan is in front of her. 

He looks at her hard, and she can see at once that Riley was right -- he was under no delusions that she came here with good news.

“You look well,” he says quietly.

“So do you,” she responds.

“Please, uh, come in...” he goes on. “I made tea. I figured you would be quite tired.”

She nods. “Yes, thank you.”

He opens the door wider to let her in, and she follows him into the suite. He has a pot of tea and several small sandwiches set out in the sitting area.

“Please,” he says, gesturing for her to sit. 

She sits down. Wolfgang paces, slowly, limping, behind the couch. Lito, Nomi and Will stand at one end of it, arms folded, and Riley, Sun and Capheus stand at the other end. Kala watches Rajan as he gathers two cups from the kitchen. He could have stepped out of their old life together -- a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, enough scruff to signify several days of little sleep. He joins her and sets the cups down on the glass coffee table.

She looks out of the expansive windows. “What a beautiful view.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” he agrees, pouring her some tea.

She plays with her fingers in her lap, feeling curiously as if she’s at a job interview. He hands her the tea and she thanks him and takes a sip.

“I don’t mean to be impolite,” Rajan says quietly after a moment. “But...”

Kala shakes her head to assuage him. “I know you want to hear where I was this month.”

“I would like that,” he agrees.

She nods, setting her tea down and reaching for more cream. She feels Rajan’s eyes on her.

“How did this happen?” he asks, gently touching the pads of his fingers to her forearm where there is a large gash. 

She pulls away, lips trembling, suddenly nervous.

“Rajan, I don’t expect you to understand,” she says, more loudly than she intended. “But, for my sake, please try to.”

He leans slightly forward, nodding, brow knitted in concern. “Of course. I will try.”

Kala takes a shaky breath, sips more tea, and resettles her hair on one shoulder. Then she clasps her fingers together, locking them. Wolfgang runs his hand softly down her arm, encouraging her, and she looks up after another moment, her eyes lit with determination. 

“For two years now...” she begins quietly, “I have been full of doubt...I agreed to marry you because I knew how much it would please my parents, and I did like you, I cared about you very much and I thought...I thought I would grow to love you, as your wife...”

“But you didn’t,” guesses Rajan softly.

Kala shakes her head. “I’m afraid it’s more complex than that.” She takes a breath. She's rehearsed the next words in her mind over and over again. “I... um... do you remember when I told you I feel connected to people all over the world?”

Rajan smiles humorlessly. “Yes, I remember that very clearly.”

Kala smiles too. “I thought you would. I tried to explain as best as I could... but I wasn't entirely honest. It is... more than a feeling.”

Rajan nods. “Okay.”

“There are people... who... who evolved differently. Most people slowly lost the ability to empathize, to  _ truly _ empathize...their brains changed. But not everyone's did. Some of us retained that ability, and we... we experience feelings and sensations differently. More intensely.”

Rajan nods again, but his brow is wrinkled. “We? So you mean...”

“Yes, I am one of these people,” she says slowly. 

He continues to nods. “You have always been very sensitive to everyone’s needs.”

“It’s more than that,” she murmurs.

“Please, go on,” he says warmly. 

She looks down at her lap. “Rajan, we are both scientists, we both feel most comfortable in an ordered universe, a universe that can be studied and understood.” She sniffles and touches her fingers to her eyes, brushing away a few stray tears. “So please, remember that I resisted this, I thought it must be in my imagination...I prayed that it was.” She stops. “When I say truly empathize...I mean that I can experience other’s feelings as my own. There are seven people...in various places around the world...who I have this with...we know each other very well. In a way, we...we  _ are _ each other.” She pauses once more. “They are my family and I love them.”

Behind her, the seven of them glance at one another -- Nomi and Lito crying, Riley wiping her eyes, Capheus grinning, Will kissing the side of Riley’s head, Sun beaming, and Wolfgang stuck still, staring at Kala.

Rajan doesn’t speak for a moment, eyes averted in thought. Finally, he refreshes his tea, runs his hand over his mouth, and breathes out. 

“How did you meet these...these seven people?” he asks.

“I didn't meet them until recently,” she admits. “We don’t have to be in the same place to communicate.”

“I don’t understand,” says Rajan.

“I think of it as a network. Some organisms are connected...underneath...like aspen trees, and mushrooms...”

“Yes,” agrees Rajan, “but Kala, I don’t mean to argue, but you’re human.”

Kala feels the others stiffen nervously behind her. She reaches to refill her tea. 

“No,” she murmurs. “There are homo sapiens...and there are homo sensoriums...and no, being trained as a scientist as you have been, I do not expect you to believe that the scientific community somehow failed to discover that fact. And perhaps they would have, but it has been suppressed, effectively...” She wipes her eyes again. “If I have ever seemed...distracted, or cold...Rajan, I’ve lived in fear for my life, for my friend’s lives, for two years, and  I very nearly lost the person who means more to me than anyone else.”

Wolfgang looks down, chest aching.

Kala leans forward suddenly, taking Rajan’s wrists. “Rajan, please. I know this must sound absurd to you, but it is the truth.”

Rajan looks down, rubbing his face. “Kala...”

“Rajan--”

“Kala, I believe you,” he interrupts. “For the sake of this conversation, at least, I believe you.” 

He squeezes her hands softly, then relinquishes his grip and gets to his feet. He opens a liquor cabinet nearby and takes out a bottle of scotch.

“I’m having a drink,” he says. “Would you like one?”

“Yes, thank you,” agrees Kala quietly.

He pours two drinks and sits down once more. He takes a healthy sip of the scotch, shaking the ice around the glass, then sets it down with a loud clink on the table.

“I don’t mean to be impatient,” he says. “But please explain to me how this relates to...to why you cannot stay married to me.”

Kala freezes, meeting his eyes.

Rajan gestures at her hand. “You’re no longer wearing your ring.”

She looks down, sips some scotch, then nods. She sets her glass aside, crossing her legs, and stares at the wall across from her for a moment to collect herself.

“I hope you know I’m -- I’m capable of accepting what you told me,” says Rajan when she doesn’t speak. “So if that is why you--”

Kala shakes her head. “Rajan, I fell in love with one of the men I am connected to.”

In the background, Lito grips Nomi’s arm, spellbound. Riley and Will exchange a nervous glance, and Sun silently passes Wolfgang a cigarette, which he accepts without comment.

“Someone who you had never met?” asks Rajan.

Kala shakes her head again. “We -- we did meet. That’s where I was.”

She can tell the tone has changed, but she doesn’t know how to reverse this. Rajan picks up his glass and gets to his feet again, shaken, expression blank.

“How long?” he asks softly.

She wishes he would yell; she would prefer anger to simple hurt. She shakes her head for a long time, unable to speak. 

“Kala, how long?” he repeats. 

“Since before...before our first wedding,” she tells him finally.

‘What?” he whispers, holding still.

She wipes her eyes, coughing slightly. “It’s why I fainted.”

“Oh, Kala,” murmurs Rajan after a moment, taking the rest of his drink in one go, and reaching to refill it. “Kala...”

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost too softly to hear. “I’m so sorry, I should have been honest.”

“And you’ve been seeing him, all this time?”

“I tried not to,” she says, forcing herself to look up at Rajan. “There were months when we didn’t speak.” She wipes her eyes. “He told me to marry you, he wanted me to be happy with you. But, Rajan, be honest with me. We were never happy, were we?”

“You married me,” he says, gesturing at her with his shaky glass. She notices that his eyes are glassy and she has to look away. “You married me, you told me your doubts were gone...how could you lie to me? To my face?”

“It didn’t feel like a lie,” she says, failing to suppress a sob. “I told myself over and over that I loved you, that I didn’t love him, and that even if I did, I couldn’t be with him. Everything I said to you was to prove a point to myself, and yes, I can barely live with how I hurt you, but I never meant to hurt you, Rajan. Everything I did was to make you happy, to make my parents happy...”

“It doesn’t matter!” yells Rajan. “You knew what you did would hurt me! What were you thinking? What kind of woman marries a man, knowing she does not love him--”

“I didn’t know!” she shouts. “I thought I could love you!”

“Kala, there is a difference between loving me, and trying to, and you know that!”

She looks at her lap, crying openly. Sun holds Wolfgang back from sitting next to her.

“I respect that you were trying to keep everyone happy,” says Rajan tersely. “I know that doing so is who you are, Kala. I also know that you are too intelligent and too intuitive, to truly believe you would succeed.”

“I thought...I could keep making small sacrifices...I thought I could be happy if you were.” She wipes her face, and quietly goes on, “But every time I looked at you, I saw him.”

Rajan shakes his head, expression souring.  “Who is he?”

Kala shakes her head miserably. “Does it matter?”

“Does it matter that I know about the man who replaced me?” he returns icily. “Yes, Kala, I think that does matter.”

Kala hesitates, sipping her drink. Then she dries her eyes once more.

“His name is Wolfgang, he’s from Germany, he’s a locksmith.” 

“So that’s where you were, Germany?” asks Rajan.

“Not the whole time,” she says. “We went many different places in Europe...”

“Sounds like a lovely holiday,” he snaps.

She shakes her head. “I wasn’t with him. I was with everyone else, looking for him...earlier, I told you...who we are...has been suppressed. We have also been...violently persecuted...and they...” She sniffles into her hand. “They found him.”

Rajan stops, suddenly softening. His eyes wander to the cut on her arm. “Is he -- is he alive?”

Kala nods. “Barely. Which is why I...I cannot be with you. I feel I have spent enough time lying to myself, and I regret that it took nearly losing him for me to come to terms with how I feel. I regret that for myself, and for him, and for you. But I know how I feel now.”

Rajan nods, looking down, rubbing his beard in thought. Then he laughs humorlessly, shaking his head at himself, and glances at her. “No doubt you will find this insignificant...but, is this why you wouldn’t sleep with me?”

Kala looks up, caught off guard. Lito moans, agonizing, repeatedly evoking God’s name. Nomi murmurs “fuck” quietly to herself, Riley and Will wrinkle their noses slightly, and Wolfgang takes a long, steadying drag on his cigarette.

Kala looks down again, knowing she must be honest if she’s to leave this conversation with a semblance of pride. “Yes.”

“Why?” asks Rajan.

“I wanted him to be the first man I slept with,” she says.

“Oh, yeah, that won’t bother him at all,” murmurs Will in the background.

“Fuck,” sighs Wolfgang. “Why would she say that?”

“Nice to see how well you behaved the whole time she was agonizing over this,” jokes Will.

“It didn’t mean anything,” says Wolfgang, annoyed.

“Yeah, I’m sure she adored seeing you fuck other women, bet she cherishes those memories--”

“Will you two shut up?” asks Riley softly. 

“Timing, Jesus,” agrees Nomi.

They redirect their attention to Kala and Rajan, who are both as uncomfortable as it is possible to be. Kala hugs herself, running her fingers up and down her arms, and Rajan stands in the center of the room, a statue except for the movement of his glass up to his lips.

“I assume you got what you wanted,” he says finally.

Kala sniffles and wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. Her silence is as good as an admission, and Rajan looks away. He sets his glass down and walks around the suite for a moment, hands on the back of his head, searching for the right response. Kala takes the time to collect herself, drying her eyes with several tissues from a box on the table, and pours herself another drink. Again, Sun keeps Wolfgang from going to her.

“She needs to do this herself,” Sun murmurs. “We’re just here so she doesn’t feel so alone.”

Rajan finally takes a seat across from Kala again, and when he speaks, his voice is slightly warmer than before. 

“Kala,” he says softly. “I cannot pretend that I am not hurt. But seeing as we have to... live with these truths...we may as well be polite.” He shrugs and finishes his drink. “I imagine these two years have been very hard for you. I know I was...far from perfect as your husband. I did love you, and I did try to understand you.” He shrugs again. “But you have been honest with me, and I’m being honest with you when I say that...perhaps I always knew you were never mine. Perhaps I should have let you go.” He takes a steadying breath, then reaches for her hand. She looks at him, wide-eyed and fearful, so he smiles slightly. “Please, Kala, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” She nods unsurely and gives him her hand. “I can’t keep you from what you want.”

She looks away and shakes her head. “No, I don’t deserve this--”

“I never understood your needs,” he interrupts. “I rarely listened to you. I took your intelligence and your independence for granted. I didn’t respect your privacy. And I am ashamed to admit that I tried to make you someone you were not, which is cowardly and unforgivable.”

“It’s not,” she murmurs, sniffling. “I understand, Rajan.”

“I think I understand, too,” he replies quietly. 

She nods, tears collecting under her eyes. Her throat is almost too tight to say her next words, but she forces them out. “I will always care about you.”

Rajan looks down, eyes wet as well. “And I will care about you, my dear.”

She nods again, squeezes his hands hard, and then lets go so she can reach into her bag. She pulls out a small envelope.

“Please, take this,” she says, handing it to him. “It was your grandmother’s, I couldn’t keep it...”

He nods, taking the envelope which conceals her engagement ring. “Thank you.”

She nods in response, then wipes her face and gets to her feet. 

“These, too,” she murmurs, giving him the keys to the flat.

“Thank you,” he says again, going on,  “I think this should be...the last time we see each other.”

She pauses, holding his gaze. Then she whispers, “Yes, I agree.”

“Okay, Kala,” he says with a tone of finality. 

“Okay,” she echoes, voice small. 

Then she steps up to him, hugs him briefly, and he holds her at arm’s length.

“Take care of yourself,” he says quietly.

“You too,” she replies, and then she turns around and exits the suite without another word.

She makes it down the hall, into the elevator, and outside without breaking into tears. But the moment she steps into a taxi, she disintegrates, and Wolfgang is there to hold her up.

“Hey, hey...” he murmurs, pulling her close. “Could have been worse.”

She nods against his chest. Then she laughs and coughs at once.

“I’m not sure if I’m crying because I feel terrible, or because I’m relieved...”   


“Probably both,” he says kindly. 

She nods again, starting to smile. She turns her face up to look at him. 

“I’m coming back to Iceland,” she says. “Tonight. I want to be with you.”

“Not tonight, Kala, you need sleep,” he replies. “Find a room for tonight, okay?”

“On it,” says Nomi, appearing in the front seat with her laptop.

“I’ll stay with you, okay?” says Wolfgang.

“It isn’t the same,” she murmurs.

He chuckles. “Better than nothing.”

She nods reluctantly, then presses against him, closing her eyes. He readjusts his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her hair.

“Got one,” says Nomi. “River view, beautiful swimming pool...you should relax tonight.”

“Okay,” Kala agrees sleepily. She musters the rest of her energy to look at Wolfgang. “You too. You need to sleep if you’re going to get better.”

“I’ll make sure he sleeps,” says Nomi, smiling. 

Kala checks into her hotel and collapses in bed half an hour later. She falls asleep quickly, exhausted by her conversation with Rajan, and Wolfgang stays up against her wishes, borrowing Nomi’s laptop to “check his email.”

Had Felix been there, he would have alerted everyone to the fact that Wolfgang doesn’t have email and tipped them off that he must be doing something less than honest. But without Felix there to sound the alarm, Wolfgang books a ticket to Paris without anyone noticing, and slips upstairs to find a suitcase.


	6. July 11, 10:13 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang surprises Kala in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a mention of suicide. Sorry, this chapter includes a depressing headcanon of mine.

Kala wakes in the morning with a gentle gasp, as if remembering something. She looks around the unfamiliar hotel room, momentarily confused, and then stares down at herself. She’s wearing the clothes she was in yesterday -- something she grew accustomed to after the weeks spent wandering Europe, searching for Wolfgang, sleeping very little, finally passing out in an exhausted heap. She rubs her face, then looks around once more, expecting Wolfgang with her; he said he was going to stay with her, and it was unlike him to change his mind. But perhaps he is asleep or sedated. She reaches into the connection, searching for anyone, and to her surprise, Will appears and sits lightly on her bed.

She frowns. “Where is Wolfgang?”

Will presses his lips together, a boy withholding incriminating information about a friend.

“Will?” insists Kala.

“Okay, so, we tried to talk him out of it,” begins Will.

Already, Kala moans. “Oh no...” She gets to her feet. “Oh no. Tell me.”

“He said he doesn’t want you to be in Paris without him,” explains Will.

“That the city is for both of you...some seriously romantic shit, actually,” adds Nomi, also appearing.

“And then he took a Blocker and left so I couldn’t stop him?” guesses Kala.

Nomi and Will exchange a glance, which is as good as an admission. Kala sighs sharply, going around the hotel, opening the curtains, using the space in between the desk and the bed to pace.

“He can barely _walk_ ,” she murmurs. “How is he going to get to an airport and...?”

“Well, we...might have been accomplices to some extent,” Nomi says carefully.

“Capheus drove him to the airport,” fills in Will.

Kala opens her mouth to express her outrage at this, but Nomi holds up a hand.

“Kala, you have every right to be furious with us, but...he wants to see you.”

“I’m coming back!” Kala replies hotly. “He couldn’t wait a day?”

“No, he couldn’t,” says a new arrival -- Lito, sipping an espresso, smiling. “And yes, you may have had plans to come back but...”

“I think he wants some...alone time?” suggests Riley. “I think he needs that with you to recover.”

Kala fixes them all with a tiger-like stare, folding her arms.

“You just _let_ him go,” she says faintly, in disbelief.

“He may not be in good shape, but at least he’s not in danger,” says Capheus, appearing alongside Sun.

“Besides,” says Sun with a tone of finality, “what does he have here that he doesn’t there? He brought plenty of medicine.”

Kala looks at each of them once more and finally nods. “When did he leave?”

“Middle of the night, so he should be there fairly soon,” replies Will.

“Oh, I can’t believe him,” murmurs Kala, turning away to go into the bathroom and run a shower. “Well, I _can_.” She pauses in the doorway, looking out at her Cluster. She points at them before she closes the door. “I am very disappointed in all of you.”

But the excitement in her voice is palpable, and she fails to suppress a smile as she shuts the door. Once inside the bathroom, she covers her face and lets out a huge breath. Then she turns on the shower and faces herself in the mirror. She frowns slightly at herself, more critical than usual of her appearance. Then she reminds herself that, given the state, Wolfgang is in, it’s unlikely he’ll see her naked anytime soon.

And yet.

Kala sighs and undresses, then searches around for a razor, some conditioner. It feels altogether foreign to put herself together like she used to -- careful attention paid to her curls, the arch of her eyebrows, her neat, light-pink nails. She instantly sidelined those concerns when Wolfgang was taken, and now, they still seem secondary, perhaps even unnecessary. He certainly isn’t looking his best.

But then, smirking just slightly at the idea of opening the door to her room and stunning him, she resolves to dress up a bit. She steps into the shower, the hot water pouring over her skin comfortingly, and spends nearly half an hour washing and stretching and spontaneously laughing in relief or exhaustion or perhaps because, after all of this, she finally _has_ lost it.

 _Someone’s giggly,_ observes Riley in her mind.

 _We’re free_ , replies Kala. _I think that warrants some giggling._

She feels Riley grin in agreement. She shuts off the water, wrapping an overlarge hotel towel around her slender frame, then tiptoes carefully over the slick tile to her suitcase and selects a coral-colored sundress, with a layer of lace over the light fabric. She’s suddenly, strangely giddy. No, this is not what she imagined; no, she did not expect to meet in Paris after such trauma. But here she is in Paris, waiting; here she is in Paris, barely able to keep from dancing.

She selects a pair of panties and a bra which match the dress -- she blushes a bit as she puts them on, but forces the thoughts out of her mind, insists to herself that he’s too injured to do more than kiss her -- and then dashes towards the bathroom to apply some lipstick and mascara, some pomegranate perfume. She feels a slight shiver in her mind, the sensation of a Blocker dissolving, but resolves not to visit Wolfgang. She wants to be surprised by his arrival, and she wants to surprise him, too. True, it’s tempting to be initially cross with him for fleeing Iceland with no discussion, but she’s sure the sight of him will bring on an undisguisable smile.

She opens the windows, letting in the warmth of the midsummer day, and sits on the foot of the bed, lightly kicking her feet, listening for any sounds outside of her door. Then, bored, she takes a book out of her bag -- _Sangita Ratnakara_ , because Riley insisted that she read it -- and muses over it for a while, leaning into the pillows. She yawns hugely after several pages, still weeks behind on sleep, and lets herself close her eyes for a moment. Twenty minutes later, having fallen instantly asleep, she is startled awake by a knock at the door. She hurries to the door, smoothing her dress over her legs, and opens it with wide, anticipatory eyes.

Wolfgang, under the bruises and scrapes, is smiling at her in the soft, sure way that he reserves only for her. Her face splits into an indulgent grin when she sees he has flowers in his hand, and then, though she didn’t intend it, she starts to cry. _Her Wolfgang. Here. Safe._

“Wolfgang, you -- you didn’t have to -- where did you even _find_ these?” she asks gently, taking the flowers.

“There’s markets all over the place here,” he replies. “It’s what I would have done if we met here like we planned.”

Kala looks down, unable to contain another wide smile, and then tucks her hair behind her ear. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The side of his mouth twitches, the only indication that he’s pleased with himself. She puts the flowers in one of the champagne flutes that came with the room. Then Wolfgang looks her up and down, drinking her in, and she blushes and twirls in front of him.

“Do I look like myself again?” she asks, gesturing.

“Yeah, c’mere,” he says quietly, putting his hands on her waist, pivoting so he’s sitting on the foot of the bed, so she’s standing in between his knees.

 

She puts her hands on either side of his face, looking down at him, smiling gently. He runs his hands over her hips, bringing her closer. She leans down and kisses him deeply, eyes slipping shut, stunned by the hot current of energy that shoots through her legs. He groans into the kiss and pulls her against him and she nods happily in response, wanting absolute closeness.

He moves his hands to her ass and squeezes gently when he feels her breath catch, and then he draws one hand up the inside of her bare thigh, just a bit. Her skin tingles and she lets out a small breath and he pulls away to watch her, in time to see her tip her head back and smile as if taking in sunlight. He smirks slightly to himself -- she appreciates such small things -- and then he presses kisses on her bare arms, on her wrists, her palms and her outstretched, needy fingers. She giggles, overwhelmed, and then he kisses her ribs, her abdomen, and carefully, the space in between her breasts. She gasps quietly, tangling her fingers in his hair. There’s something different about being with Kala -- of course, their connection, which seems to pulse with every shared breath they take. But there is also a kind of softness. A tendency to touch her according to what she wants, what she responds to, a kind of devotion he can’t say that he’s ever felt before.

She places her knee on the bed as they kiss and gently falls on top of him. They look at each other for a moment, Kala’s inky hair falling in fragrant waves around his face.

“I think you were right,” she murmurs, playing with the top button of his shirt.

“About what?” he asks.

“I don’t think we _would_ have done much talking...”

He chuckles and she kisses him again, but she feels him wince after a moment.

“Kala,” he says gently. “Sorry -- you -- hurts.”

She sits up quickly, assessing the damage she did, running her hands over him.

“Your chest?” she guesses.

He nods. “Still sore. Think they did something to my lungs, coughed up a lot of blood.”

The light from outside catches her expression of anguish; her lips flutter slightly as she searches for words, but he spares her the effort by running a hand through her hair and kissing her softly. She smiles weakly and he sits up.

“So, we know I can’t lay on top of you...” she says, meeting his eyes in a shy way. “But...we’re creative.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Though we should be careful.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Considering you have a history of injuring the men you get intimate with.”

Kala gives him the gentlest of shoves. “That was as much his fault as mine. He fell out of bed.”

Wolfgang shakes his head, putting his arms around her, and kisses her again. “It was my fault actually.”

She smiles against his lips. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

“Mm, I should have been behaving more respectfully.”

“You don’t have to behave respectfully now...”

He pulls back and looks at her, held captive by her teasing brown eyes. He shakes his head, impressed, and kisses her quickly once more. When they break away, she puts her hands lightly on his shoulders, shifting to her knees so she can look at him more directly. She intended to kiss him again, but she stares at him instead, suddenly unable to look away. The scar on his left brow. The bruises. The swollen black eye. She gently thumbs over his battered cheek, fingers trailing over stubble which is longer than she is used to. Her expression, for the second time, fades into one of profound grief.

“Kala...” he trails off.

She shakes her head, eyes wide and wet, continuing to soothe his scars with careful touches. “It isn’t fair.”

He nods softly, but takes her hand and moves it off. “No, but it’s over, and we’re here.”

She forces herself to nod in response. But then it overwhelms her again, and words she wishes she could keep back burst like torrential rain into their shared mind.

_Will things ever be the same again? Will you? What if this changed you?_

She can feel his own fear spill over, his resentment that she’s asking the necessary questions.

“Kala...” he murmurs after a moment, soothing her side with a gentle touch. “Part of the reason I wanted to come here, to be with you, just you...” He shakes his head. “They all look at me like you’re looking at me right now. I don’t want that.”

“I can’t help it,” she says seriously.

“Try to,” he replies, meeting her eyes.

She breathes out. His gaze is exactly as she remembered it -- steady, sharp, lucent blue, and somehow, perhaps for her alone, kind. This familiarity comforts her and she nods.

“We’re in Paris,” he adds, attempting a smirk. “We should explore.”

“Can you?” she murmurs, glancing at his leg.

He nods. “It’s been healing for a couple of weeks.”

Kala hesitates, then can’t help grinning. “I’ve always wanted to walk along the Seine...”

He squeezes her waist playfully, kisses her, and nudges her off the bed. “Then let’s walk along the Seine.”

She nods happily, getting to her feet and helping him up, handing him his crutches.

“And while we walk we can ask each other about our missing details,” she murmurs.

“Mm, I might need to be drunk for that,” he replies.

She shakes her head affectionately and bumps her nose against his. It shocks her how natural being with him feels, how easily she sheds the mask that, between her family, Rajan, Ajay, and BPO, she’s grown far too accustomed to wearing.

She slips on her sandals, which increase her height by about three inches, then looks at Wolfgang, who smirks and pulls her into his arms.

“You’re still so tiny,” he tells her.

“Blame my mother,” she retorts.

He chuckles, then reaches for the door. They step into the hotel hallway, glancing gently at each other, and continue down the elevator and into the lobby. It’s strange, almost uncomfortable, to walk through the lobby without feeling the need to look at everyone they pass, to catalog details, to hold their breath. It’s strange to be safe. They continue onto the street and Kala breathes out at the sight of the ancient pastel buildings. She can barely allow herself the thought, but she knows that this city, with this man, is the only future she will accept.

“Gorgeous here,” he mumbles. “I love Berlin, but...”

Kala nods. “I love Mumbai, but...”

“Okay, details,” he says. “Life story.”

“Life story? My goodness,” she replies. “Well, I was born in Mumbai, when it was called Bombay, and at first we lived in the flat above the restaurant, before my father was successful, and it was very small for the four of us, and it always smelled like frying oil...and, hm, when I was that little, I spent most of the time in the restaurant, _likely_ slowing things down, and then when I was six, the restaurant became quite popular so we moved to the house my parents still live in, and that was closer to the good schools, so, I became quite studious.” She pauses to smile. “Daya was too. We would sit by the refrigerator on the floor to stay cool while we did homework. But Daya always _talked_ ...when we were older, we never did our work, because she always had a boy to talk about. And I never did, so I let her talk. Well, I did, but I wouldn’t talk about it. And so after that, we graduated secondary school...and we both went to the University of Mumbai...and I honestly feel I never looked up from a book for four years, I barely had friends, and besides, bringing them back home to mom and Auntie and Daya...” She laughs at herself. “Well, you can imagine. And then I took a job at...Rasal Pharmaceuticals, just an internship, and while I was _there_ , I did my doctorate--”

Wolfgang frowns at her, stopping her speech. “You have your doctorate?”

Kala raises an eyebrow, flushing. “Yes?”

He starts to slowly grin. “Fuck. Can I call you--?”

“Dr. Dandekar? No, you may not, because I am not that kind of doctor.”

He shrugs and glances down at himself. “You did alright with me.”

Kala smiles slightly, but underneath, is beaming at the compliment. She looks away, tucking her hair behind her ear and suppressing a grin.

“Well, I was very careful with you...”

He smiles at her and they walk in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Kala glances at Wolfgang, eyes bright with curiosity.

“So, life story,” she commands. “Everything I don’t know.”

He shakes his head. “You know too much already.” But he goes on. “Born in East Berlin, mama was eighteen, we lived in this first-floor shithole. just her and me for a year...but then my grandfather said that it looked...” Wolfgang trails off, searching for a word. “Indecent, was the word he used.” His lips curve into a humorless smile. “He made sure my father was a part of our lives, and mama didn’t know better, or if she did she couldn’t stop it.”

“Mama,” murmurs Kala, surprised by the word in his mouth. “Is that what most German children say, or...?”

He nods. “Usually. She was always mama and he was always Vater because he insisted.”

“Mm,” replies Kala. “That’s so strange. I was always so informal with my parents.”

“After the wall came down,” he goes on after a moment, “we went to West Berlin, better business opportunities, that’s what they all said, father, Sergei...I was two, so I don’t remember moving, watching the wall come down, any of that. But a few years later I remember mama forcing me to go to every museum and theater and zoo she could find because she never had those things before and she loved them. Especially the zoo, she’d take me there whenever she could, when it was freezing and snowing and she would stare at the tigers for hours.” He shrugs and smiles distantly. “What felt like hours when I was that age, so probably a few minutes.”

Kala watches him for a moment, realizing that her story was mundane and chronological, stunned that he’s telling her more than a few inscrutable points on a timeline. Sometimes Wolfgang surprises her like this -- he says something that hits her like a carillon of bells, reveals a detail that grips her like the shock of cold water.

“How did she die?” asks Kala in a soft tone, somehow aware this is his next disclosure, somehow aware exactly what he is going to tell her.

“Killed herself,” he says with a tiny shrug. “I know why. I understand it. She couldn’t do what I could, couldn’t protect herself from my father, she was never as angry, never wanted to stay alive out of revenge.”

“Oh, Wolfgang,” says Kala, so quietly he almost can’t hear her, so quietly that her voice comes through more clearly in his mind, their shared grief expressed like blips on a metronome: _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..._

 _How?_ asks Kala, unable to help herself.

An image of a young, dark-browed woman on a couch, expression serene, arm outstretched towards a bottle of small white pills. Kala looks down, sniffling hard.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “Oh, Wolfgang, I’m so sorry.”

“I think anyone would have done what she did, I don’t blame her, don’t blame myself. But what happened to me after that...”

“Living alone with your father?” guesses Kala.

He nods. “I might have done what she did except for Felix.”

“Felix,” says Kala with a small smile. “Is it strange that I love him and I’ve never met him?”

Wolfgang smiles. “No, you just feel what I do.”

Kala experiences a brief memory of a conversation, one Wolfgang had quickly after waking up in Iceland.

_What the fuck do you mean you’re in Iceland? Iceland, Wolfie?_

_Something came up._

_What the fuck! You’ve been gone for weeks! What the fuck is something?_

_India plan isn’t a place, it’s a person. I’ll explain more when I see you._

“Mm, did you call me the India plan?”

Wolfgang looks at her cautiously. “I didn’t want to tell him you’re a woman. He would have--”

“Heard it all before?” asks Kala with a sly smile.

Wolfgang laughs. “Uh, yeah. And he wouldn’t have understood that you’re different.”

“Now does he understand?” asks Kala.

Another memory floods her: Felix groaning over the phone, distressed, and mumbling _I swear Wolfgang if this is about a girl--_

_I love her, alright? It’s different._

Kala turns her eyes on Wolfgang, lamplike and bright with emotion.

“It is different, isn’t it?” she whispers after a moment.

He glances quickly at her, then nods. “It is. You are.”

They realize that they’ve stopped, that they’ve turned to look at one another. Kala puts her arms around Wolfgang’s neck, gently nuzzles him, and for the first time since rescuing him, she believes that they will be okay. She smiles, brow knitted by the strength of her feelings, and squeezes his shoulders excitedly.

“We’re in Paris.”

He chuckles. “We’re in Paris.”

Hours later, having walked along the river, having spoken truths, kissed obnoxiously in front of tourists, and picked up a bottle of strong red wine, they end up in the Square du Vert Galant, sitting on the wall above the water. Kala eyes Wolfgang as he opens the wine with a tool he keeps in his pocket.

“Are we allowed to drink here?” she asks.

He raises one eyebrow as the cork pops free. “Do you care?”

“Not particularly,” admits Kala with a laugh, suddenly and somewhat alarmingly overwhelmed by every small movement Wolfgang makes, by the way the light catches his eyes, by the stubble around his mouth. _His_ _mouth_. Kala swallows the urge to kiss him (again) and accepts the bottle when he passes it to her. She hesitates just briefly -- she has a low tolerance for alcohol, especially wine -- and then takes a healthy sip. She passes the bottle back to him and he takes some too, and then she snuggles against him, sheltered from the cool breeze off of the water. The lights of the city reflect in the Seine, red and gold, and the water throws the light back on them. Kala stretches her legs out above the water, flexing her feet, then leans sleepily against Wolfgang.

“What else do you want to know?” she whispers.

He glances at her, fingering the foil on the outside of the bottle, hesitant. Then he says, “Why did you keep coming back? After I told you to marry Rajan?”

The question initially strikes Kala as obvious, as something he must know. Then she sees that he’s asking genuinely, and she meets his eyes.

“It was always you,” she says quietly. “Only you. I couldn’t escape that.”

“I never meant to pull you away,” he replies. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“I couldn’t have been,” she murmurs.

He looks at her for a moment, eyes wide and unexpectedly soft. Then he sets aside the wine and kisses her with a kind of heat that reminds her of when he kissed her before their first night together, and she breathes in sharply, melting into him, eyes slipping shut. At first she indulges in how romantic the moment is, their figures entwined and reflecting the river, the lights of the city shining on them like bubbles; but after a moment, she’s surprised to hear herself moan into his mouth, surprised to find her needy hands on his belt loops, surprised by his hands on her breasts. She pulls away, just enough to speak.

“Let’s just stay here,” she says quietly.

He laughs, but then he kisses her again and murmurs, “I’ll stay wherever you want, süße.”

“Sweet,” says Kala, all breath. “You’ve never called me that before...”  
  
“You taste sweet,” he says, mouth on hers once more, her hands jumping to his hair, his hands finding the shape of her body under her dress.

“Is that what you’ve always called me in your head?” she goes on, trying to breathe evenly as his fingers trail down her tummy. “It’s familiar...”

He nods, tilting his face and pressing a brief kiss into her neck. She laughs at the tickle of his beard.

“You may need to shave that...”

He lifts up. “What?” he asks. “You don’t like it? I grew this just for you--”

Kala presses her index finger to his lips. He grins, then kisses her finger, setting off a new spell of laughter. She motions for the wine.

“Are you sure you haven’t hurt your leg from walking?” she asks after a long sip.

He glances down at himself. “I don’t think so.”

“Then you’re getting better,” she replies. “Slowly. But better.”

He nods, then pulls her closer in response. She rests her head on his shoulder and they pass the wine bottle back and forth for several minutes while they watch the river, while the final infusion of pink and orange leaves the sky. The alcohol settles low and heavy in Kala’s tummy, and she nestles against Wolfgang for warmth, euphoric and hopeful. His fingers draw an invisible pattern on the inside of her thigh and he smiles to himself whenever he notices her hair stand up, whenever a shiver has nothing to do with the chilly evening.

To both of their surprise, Kala is the one to speak.

“Wolfgang?” she murmurs.

He looks at her with an attentive expression. She turns a deep peach color.

“Can we go back to the hotel?” she asks.


	7. July 11, 11:04 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang spend a long-overdue night together in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3500 words of smut because I can't stop myself apparently ;)
> 
> In seriousness, I love writing the sexual aspect of Kalagang, and I hope this captured the way they would get used to each other.
> 
> Also, will respond to all unread comments tomorrow!!

It begins to rain while Kala and Wolfgang walk back to their hotel, and by the time Kala fits the key into the door to their room, they are both damp and shivering. Kala looks over her shoulder at Wolfgang as the lock clicks free, warm chocolate eyes and slightly trembling lips, a picture of anticipation, and he raises an eyebrow in response, which makes her suddenly grin.

She pulls him through the door, both of them blissfully unmindful of everything that happened in the last few weeks, still giddy from the wine, finally able to focus only on each other. Kala shuts the door with a playful kick, and Wolfgang presses her against the nearest wall, kissing her with more urgency and force than she thought he would be capable of. She moans in surprise, gripping his shoulders, stepping out of her shoes while she kisses him, unwilling to break contact even for a moment. They sway slightly on the spot, Kala melting against the wall, Wolfgang momentarily staggered that this woman is in his arms again.

Kala breathes in to steady herself, but like the first time she was with him, she’s surprised by how sure she feels, how suddenly fearless she is. She pulls away just slightly when she notices he’s playing with the zipper of her dress, then floats her gaze up to meet his, blinking with big, dark lashes, giving a tiny nod of approval. He kisses her again, then unzips her dress.

“Somehow,” she murmurs as they kiss, “given your leg,” (he pushes the straps of her dress over her shoulders) “and all of your other injuries,” (she finds the top button of his shirt, working downward)  “and your overall pain,” (she steps out of her dress, leaving it on the floor)  “and exhaustion,” (she unzips his jeans and tugs them down, feeling his lips quirk into a smile) “I assumed you wouldn’t be...up for this.”

A pause as they look at each other, both slightly out of breath, Wolfgang visibly stunned by the sight of her in translucent, pale purple lingerie. Kala grins softly and presses against him.

“But apparently,” she goes on, kissing him again, “life-threatening injuries are no match for your desire to have sex with me.”

“No,” he agrees. “It’s just a broken leg.”

“Oh, yes,” says Kala. “Just a leg, and some severe lung trauma.”

“They would have had to break a different bone to stop us.”

Kala stares momentarily, then murmurs, “Wolfgang, I’m _not_ sure that I can sleep with a man who makes such awful jokes.”

He shakes his head, laughing, and presses another kiss to her mouth. She smirks against his lips, but kisses him back earnestly after a moment; eventually her expression softens and her eyes seek his, and she tightens her grip on his arms.

“I thought about this so often,” she admits as they look at each other.

He runs his hands over her ass, then squeezes it gently and pulls her closer.

“Even when we didn’t know where you were. Of course I just...wanted you back, and safe, but I also wanted...” She meets his eyes once more, trailing her fingers down his arms. “... _this._ I’ve never felt this closeness with anyone else.”

He shakes his head softly in agreement. “Me neither.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her blood rushing to her cheeks, her pulse throbbing in places she normally doesn’t notice it.

“It’s different in person,” she murmurs. “I feel like I’m going to dissolve.”

He replies with a slight smile, then hugs her tightly against him and kisses the side of her neck. She closes her eyes, dizzy and beaming at the sensation, then moans softly and nods her approval as he slides a hand over her ass and in between her thighs.

“Bed?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says softly, and after a well-placed flick of his fingers, nods hard and moans, “mm, God, yes, yes.”

They share a messy kiss, working blindly towards the bed, and Kala laughs in surprise when she hits it and falls back onto it. Then she looks at Wolfgang, tilting her head, suddenly taken over by an idea. She flushes pink, then blushes deeper when she notices how hard he is already.

“I know what we should do...”

She pulls him gently onto the bed, careful not to hurt his leg, and then urges him onto his back. He watches her with an expression that tells her he knows exactly what she’s thinking, and the corner of his mouth twitches perceptively as she straddles him and moves her hair out of her eyes. She looks down at him.

“Is this okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” he says with a laugh.

She smiles, relieved, and goes to take his shirt off. But he stops her.

“Kala, it’s...”

“I know,” she says gently. “I saw, when we first found you...”

He looks down. “Scars’ll never go away.”

Kala nods, rubbing her hands over his shoulders, and kisses him gently. He puts his arms around her to bring her closer, and she carefully kisses his bruised cheek.

“You’re here with me,” she says softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

He nods after a moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says with a luminous smile. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”

He chuckles and leans up to kiss her again. Then she tugs playfully on his shirt.

“I will if you will,” she says, reaching behind to unclasp her bra.

“Can’t believe I’ve never seen you naked,” he murmurs.

She blushes, eyeing him. “I think you provided enough nudity for both of us...”

She drops her bra off the side of the bed and he puts his hands carefully on her ribs, placing his fingers along the bones, half stunned, half smirking.

“Mm, your tits are as nice as I pictured--”

“ _Wolfgang_.”

“Can’t I compliment you?” he asks, laughing.

“Well--”

“You're fucking stunning.”

Kala covers her face, which is approximately the color of a pomegranate, and starts shaking her head.

“You are,” he says in a softer tone. “I never wanted anyone else after I saw you.”

She looks at him through her fingers, wary but unable to hide how pleased she is.

“Are you done now?” she murmurs.

He nods.

“Then will you touch me please?”

He pulls her into a messy kiss in response and slides his hands over her breasts. She mumbles in approval, then gasps quietly when he squeezes each of her nipples.

“That feels good,” she murmurs, voice intoning upwards as if she wasn’t expecting it to.

“Are you surprised?” he asks.

“How would I know what feels good?” she replies shyly.

“From touching yourself?” he suggests.

She looks down. “I don’t do that very often...”

He wrinkles his brows, interested. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly think about _you_ without feeling terrible, and who else would I think about?”

He hums in thought, then moves his hands back over her breasts and kisses her.

“Have to spoil you then,” he murmurs, “so you can decide what feels good.”

Kala smiles against his lips. “As if you weren’t already planning on spoiling me...”

He chuckles and hugs her closer while they kiss. Kala helps him out of his shirt, then kisses the pattern of scars along his chest and down his abdomen, extra gentle, her hair tickling him as she goes. The most recent ones from the shock paddles are angry red and sore, but she stops when she reaches a large one near his hip which is much older.

“How did you do this?” she asks, tilting her face up to look at him.

He smiles slightly. “Fell out of my bedroom window one night when I was sneaking out for cigarettes.”

Kala rolls her eyes fondly. “What did you land on?”

“Bit of the fence, also broke my arm,” he replies. “They were for Felix, his mother was more observant than mine.”

“Oh, he must have felt awful,” says Kala.

Wolfgang shakes his head, laughing at the memory. “He thought it was funny. Think that’s when he finally decided to trust me.”

Kala grins, kissing the scar again, then sits up to run a hand through his hair. He thumbs over her upper lip where there is a tiny, faded scar.

“What about this?” he asks.

“Oh,” she laughs. “Well, _that_ is somewhat embarrassing. I was standing behind Daya, in line for ice cream, when I was eight... and Daya used to wear her hair in these gorgeous long braids, and she would always put a little metal clip shaped like a butterfly on the ends...and so, she said something mean to me, so I said something mean to her, as sisters do... and she whipped around so fast, and one of her braids hit me in the face and well... those butterfly clips are quite sharp.”

Wolfgang nods, laughing. “I’m sure that’s Daya’s proudest moment.”

“Oh, yes, she loves to tell the story! It was terrible, we were in public and I was crying and bleeding and trying to retaliate...”

He grins. “Did you get her back?”

“Oh, yes,” says Kala seriously. “I drew a mustache on her favorite doll.”

“And got grounded.”

“And got grounded,” she agrees with a laugh.

“I didn’t realize you were so naughty,” he replies, squeezing her sides.

“I was an angel unless provoked,” she explains.

“Uh huh,” he says, unconvinced.

“You’ll see,” she replies. “You’ve grown accustomed to an intense side of me, but I’m actually very boring.”

“Boring is good, suße,” he says, kissing her again.

She smiles, then pulls away and gently raises an eyebrow.

“I think I missed one...” she says quietly, changing positions so she can kiss his hip bone again.

She isn’t sure what suddenly emboldened her -- probably the lingering effect of the strong French wine and an overwhelming urge to make him feel something good after so many weeks of feeling bad -- but she doesn’t hesitate in slipping her fingers under his boxers and tugging them down.

“Could you?” she asks, motioning for a hair tie on the bedside table while pulling a cupped hand gently up and down his length.

His eyes brighten in surprise and he hands the tie to her.

“Boring?” he murmurs.

“Mm hmm,” she replies, tying her hair back and quirking her lips against a desire to laugh.

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” he mumbles.

Kala blushes. “I thought you might have...”

She presses several messy kisses underneath his belly button, nuzzling the soft hair around his length, then sinks her mouth over him in one smooth motion. She’s never done this before, but perhaps some of her cluster-mates’ talent is coming through, because after a surprisingly short time, Wolfgang tangles a hand in her hair and murmurs, “Fuck, Kala...”

She’s never heard his voice quite like that, or her name like that, and the sound sends heat shooting to the tips of her fingers and toes. Wolfgang watches her for a moment, drunk on the image, momentarily unsure whether she is real or if this is one of many pleasant hallucinations which kept him somewhat sane before, but then she tilts her head and does something with her tongue which removes all doubt that he’s just dreaming.

“Fuck... _Kala._ ”

It’s been weeks since he had sex with her, and he can’t remember the last time he’s gone so long without sex, and every small sensation is doubly intense with her here in person...

She lifts up with a slight pop, only to turn her head and take him in deeper, and his mind enters a hazy state of white noise after watching this, and he barely pulls himself into reality in time to groan, “Kala, Kala...” and tug her hair.

She gasps. “Did I hurt y--”

“No, no,” he says breathily. “Just... going to come.”

“O-oh,” she says, very pink in the face. “Would you like me to...?”

He shakes his head slightly, reaching to pull her closer. “I want to come inside you.”

Kala breathes out, dizzied. The first time she slept with him, they barely spoke, but she likes the communication this time; if she’s honest, she could listen to him say those words over and over. She nods, running her hands over his chest, noticing how slippery it suddenly feels between her thighs. She leans down for a kiss.

“I want that too,” she breathes.

“Let me taste you first, c’mere,” he murmurs, nudging her hips with his thumbs.

She savors the words, looking down at him, heart beating an almost-painful pattern against the inside of her chest.

“How do you want to...?” she trails off, beginning to smile in anticipation.

“Like this,” he says, nudging her closer again.

Kala distantly recalls Daya whispering to her about this in high school, and she remembers gasping and replying, “The woman sits _where?”_

Wolfgang chuckles quietly, glimpsing the memory, and Kala blushes. Then she silently wonders _how does this work?_ and gets an amused answer: _not the first time I’ve done this, Kala._

“Oh, of course,” she teases, taking a moment to slip her panties off. “I forgot about your limitless sexual expertise--”

He laughs and shoves her gently, and then she takes a steadying breath and lets him guide her closer.

She sighs, almost a whine, at the first touch of his tongue.

“Oh, that’s...” she trails off, unable to speak, and her sigh turns instantly into a throaty moan. “Oh, oh my God, Wolfgang...”

He grips her thighs and she lifts up slightly, forcing herself not to helplessly grind against him, nearly crying out from the desire to do exactly that. She’s waited hours to be touched here and the relief is so satisfying she could cry, but she settles for a stunned, open-mouthed smile and moans again. She lets herself open her legs slightly wider, feels Wolfgang squeeze her legs in approval, and tips her head back hard so her throat is stretched tight, surprised that she’s already so close... the first time she slept with him, it took an hour of careful touches and slow kisses which left her so emotionally overcome she could barely speak...now, she has to swallow the urge to chase the feeling to its end, and she can sense how pleased Wolfgang is with himself (damn him) for making her lose control so quickly.

He pulls her closer to focus on her clit, a gentle sucking sensation which makes her grip the headboard so she doesn’t tremble, and she catches herself mid-moan and settles for a slightly quieter string of _yes yes yes_ as her orgasm shoots down her legs and up her spine.

She finds herself breathing hard, sticky with sweat, murmuring, “Oh my God...Wolfgang...oh...” as if she’s experiencing something miraculous. She collapses for a moment on the bed next to him, nestled into the pillows, out of breath.

He looks at her with expression she can only call devilish. “Good?”

She touches his lips with her fingertips and nods. “I should have gotten in bed with you when you showed up that morning...I wasted so much time when I could have been having this...”

He raises an eyebrow. “The morning you called me a dangerous pervert demon who never has any clothes on?”

“Yes, that morning,” she agrees, adding with a frown, “You _are_ a dangerous pervert demon.”

“I may be a dangerous pervert demon, _but_ I eat pussy really well--”

“Oh my God,” interrupts Kala, giggling feebly and holding up a hand. “Enough.”

He grins softly, then pulls her against him and kisses her. She grins too, shaking her head, and finds his hands so she can tangle her fingers with his.

“I didn’t realize sex could be like this,” she says openly.

He glances at her. “Like what?”

She looks down, considering. “I never expected to laugh or feel so assured...I always felt terrified thinking about this, but it’s different with you.”

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing her. He adds after a moment, voice husky with regret, “I love you, Kala, I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you that.”

She sniffles suddenly. “But you did tell me. That’s what matters.” Then she smiles. “I like hearing you say my name.”

He takes the tie out of her hair and kisses her.

“I like saying it,” he says softly.

She kisses him more deeply, softening against him, then shifting so she’s straddling him again. She leans down, her hair falling around his face, and he moves his hands over her breasts, her ribcage, the top curve of her ass. She breathes in, indulging in the warmth of their bodies together, in the scent of sweat and sex which she didn’t expect to find so intoxicating. Then she runs her hands over his chest and meets his eyes, asking, and he nods and kisses her again. He reaches for his wallet on the bedside table, takes out a condom and rips it open with his teeth -- she smirks slightly at how natural the gesture is for him -- and then she slips it over his cock.  She takes his length in her hand, guiding it towards her slick opening, unintentionally gliding the head of it over her clit and humming happily at the feeling... he tilts his hips up slightly, finally sliding into her, and she groans, fingers twitching against his skin. They pause at a single, shared thought -- _I want this the rest of my life --_ and then Kala rolls her hips gently down, tilting her head back as she rides him, breasts bouncing slightly. He groans quietly, squeezing her waist and then her breasts, watching sweat collect in the soft V of her collarbone.

“Fuck, Kala, you feel so good.”

She smiles distantly, focused, and then gives a gentle, breathy gasp as he shifts his position, as his cock finds the right spot inside of her.

“Mm, there, _there_ ,” she mumbles, reaching down, taking both of his hands.

They stay like this for a few minutes, Kala sounding her approval with spontaneous moans, Wolfgang telling her he likes how she sounds, which only makes her louder...she’s nearly out of breath, nearly out of energy to speak, by the time she feels him tighten his grip around her hands, a signal. She lets herself relax around him and he presses deeper into her, and then she shivers hard, moaning again, throbbing around him as he swears softly and comes inside of her.

After a moment of needy breathing, she squeezes his hands, then releases them so she can run her fingers through his hair. She leans down and kisses him, soft, quick kisses all around his mouth and jaw, and lays gently on top of him, chest heaving. He ties the condom and tosses it neatly into the trash, then runs his hands over her back, pulling her closer, kissing her hair.

“This feels like our honeymoon,” she murmurs after a while, eyes slipping shut, deliriously happy.

He chuckles, then glances at her, struck by an idea. He takes out one of her silver earrings, clicks the clasp, and slides the ring over her left fourth finger. She laughs loudly, snuggling into him, elated though slightly distressed with herself for thinking _of course I would marry you tonight_. He hugs her against him, aware of the thought she just had, and kisses her again -- the side of her mouth, her neck which tastes sweet like the rest of her, her shoulder.

“Just want you,” he mumbles as they fall asleep. “Just you, the rest of my life.”

She smiles, nearly gone. “I just want you, too.”


	8. July 12, 1:37 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang have breakfast in bed. Felix worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Wolfgang shouldn't be smoking cigarettes so soon after being injured...but...this is Wolfgang Bogdanow we're talking about, so.
> 
> 2\. Researching this chapter made me want to live in Paris. 
> 
> 3\. Will Gorski can't make coffee pass it on.

Kala quietly opens the door to the hotel room, peeking her head around to see if Wolfgang is still asleep, which is how she left him earlier in the morning when she went to go get pastries and coffee. He is, so she shuts the door as noiselessly as possible and resists the urge to get back in bed with him. She could barely convince herself to go get breakfast -- she woke up warm and full of wild happiness which she can’t recall ever feeling so clearly, satisfied that she slept all night naked in his arms -- but then her stomach rumbled and she realized the last time they had eaten was yesterday afternoon. So, she forced herself to put on a dress and wander the sunny, labyrinthine alleys and decide between numerous patisseries and cafes, and after two hours of aimless daydreaming and unprompted grins, returned with several huge pastries and a thermos of coffee. 

She's ravenous, but she hesitates to wake him, so she showers, and by the time she’s wrapped herself in a loose silk robe and returned to the bedroom, he’s sitting up in bed, having a cigarette. He softly raises an eyebrow at her and she looks down to hide a pink-cheeked smile.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Well, afternoon...”

He reaches a hand out for her to take, and when she does, pulls her gently onto the bed and kisses her.

“Afternoon,” he replies, looking more rested than she’s seen him in weeks.

She kisses him again. “You slept in...”

He combs a hand through her hair and nods. She smiles against his lips, continues to kiss him, then laughs at herself.

“I can’t seem to stop,” she whispers.

He chuckles and pulls her closer. “I don’t mind.”

Kala shakes her head, kisses him a last time, and sits back. “I got us something to eat...”

She gets up to retrieve the bag of pastries. He watches her, gaze lingering wherever the thin silk hugs her frame, and she looks over her shoulder at him with dark, amused eyes. He smiles unapologetically and takes a drag, and she turns, clamping the enormous bag of pastries, two hotel mugs, and the jug of coffee in her arms.

“I don’t speak French,” she prefaces. “So I’m not entirely sure what is in any of these...”

She sits down again, and in the process of setting aside the pastries and coffee, notices that her robe has slipped off her shoulder. 

“Oh,” she says, and goes to fix it. Then she stops herself, looks at Wolfgang, and murmurs, “On or off?”

He sets aside his cigarette, then hooks a finger in the loose bow she’s tied the robe with and pulls it undone. Kala laughs at this response.

“I suppose eating breakfast naked in bed is required in Paris, hmm?” she asks. 

He nods, smiling wider, then tugs the robe more fully away and tosses it to the foot of the bed.

“Better,” he mumbles, kissing her. 

Kala smiles against his lips, then shifts so she’s under the covers with him again. He pulls her closer, fingertips trailing briefly over the sides of her breasts. Then he meets her eyes.

“Hungry?” coaxes Kala.

“Coffee,” he replies. “Last good coffee I had was Berlin.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have put Will in charge of the coffee in Iceland...”

“No, shouldn’t have let him anywhere near the kitchen.”

Kala giggles and nods in agreement, then unscrews the coffee thermos.

“Wolfgang,” she says gently as she pours, noticing the cigarette smoldering in a dish on the bedside table.

“Kala?” he replies with the same tone.

“You aren’t allowed to smoke in here.”

He glances at the cigarette. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“Oh, yes,” she says and he laughs. 

She hands him his coffee and pours some for herself, then leans against the pillows, sipping it. He glances at her, drunk on the image of her sitting up in bed, tousled hair, topless, a mug of strong black coffee in her hands. He wants to wake up to this every day. She feels him watching and shivers -- she always shivers when he’s studying her like this -- and then looks at him with a shy smile.

“It’s just me,” he murmurs.

“Yes, exactly,” she says softly. “No one looks at me like you do. It’s...intense.”

Half of his mouth curves into a smile. Her smile grows wider and a faint blush touches her cheeks.

“And I know how... truly little it matters,” she goes on, “I know you fell in love with my mind and my heart and who I am... but...” She laughs. “I’m glad you like to look at me.”

He nods and kisses her. “Never wanted anyone like I want you.”

Kala takes his face in her hands and kisses him more deeply, then murmurs, “You were never this sweet before.”

He shakes his head in agreement. “Never had any practice.”

Kala wrinkles her brow. “You haven’t had girlfriends?”

“Girlfriends who stay over?” he replies, adding more quietly, “Who I say I love you to? No, never.”

“Really?” murmurs Kala. 

He shakes his head. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever had that with.”

Kala smiles indulgently and kisses him again. “And you’re the only man.”

He tucks her hair behind her ear, debating whether to tell her what he’s thinking, and she senses the hesitation.

“Go on,” she says warmly.

He meets her eyes. “Seems impossible but I know the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

Kala catches her breath, then whispers, “The rooftop. After you asked me if I thought this was all some kind of miracle...”

He nods. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer the way you did and I...” 

“And what?” breathes Kala, beaming.

“...suddenly knew you were the only person I would ever want to be with. Never happened to me before.”

Kala nods slowly. “I remember... your expression changed, right before we nearly kissed.” She smiles. “What interrupted you?”

He laughs. “Felix.”

She shakes her head, laughing too, and then her expression softens. “I fell in love with you then too. But I didn’t realize it until...”

“You kissed me in the car,” he says.

She nods. “It took wondering if I would lose you...” She presses instinctively closer and he holds her more tightly. “Now that I have you...” she says, nuzzling her nose against his, “I just want to keep you here...”

“Then keep me here,” he says, kissing her.

She murmurs her agreement into his mouth, hand drifting lazily behind her to set her coffee down, moaning quietly as Wolfgang pulls her into his lap. He runs his hands down her back as she presses close and they kiss deeply. She tilts her head back in pleasure when his mouth wanders to the side of her neck, but after a moment, she pulls away and takes the bag of pastries off of the bedside table.

“We should eat...”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, now sweeping his thumbs over the sides of her breasts.

“We have all day,” she reminds him.

“Right,” he says, thumbing over her nipples.

“I’ll let you kiss me again if you eat something,” she says in a breathy tone, eyes wide, irises bright and blown.

He chuckles and gives her breasts a final, slightly firmer squeeze. “Okay.”

She grins, reaching into the bag. “Oh, you were very close to convincing me to skip breakfast...but now...” She pulls out a huge eclair. “...now you have to eat.”

“What is that?” he asks.

“Taste,” she replies, nudging him so he opens his mouth.

“Shit,” he murmurs through a mouthful.

Kala beams and wipes some cream from his mouth. “Good?”

“Best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he replies. He touches his fingers to her lips. “Open.”

She does, then takes a huge bite of eclair; he trails his fingertips down her chin, watching her.

“Mmgod. Wolfgang. We have to move here so we can eat these every morning.”

He shrugs. “I would move here with you suße.”

She perks an eyebrow. “But Berlin...?”

“I think I’m a little tired of Berlin.” He smiles distantly. “It’s probably a little tired of me.”

Kala smiles too, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe a change would be good.”

He nods, then flicks the bag. “What else do you have?”

She brightens. “Good things. Chocolate things, fruit things...” She pauses. “But... I said I would let you kiss me again if you ate something...”

He chuckles, then takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. She smiles as he pulls away.

“I’ll shave soon,” he mentions.

She rubs her thumb over his lengthy stubble. “Good. It tickles.” Then she wrinkles her nose happily. “But not enough to stop me from kissing you.”

He laughs and kisses her again. She’s just about to give into something longer, to suggest the food will taste sweeter after having sex, but Wolfgang’s phone rings.

“Felix,” they say together. 

“I should,” says Wolfgang. 

Kala nods, untangling herself from him. He picks up and Kala presses her ear close so she can hear.

“What fucking happened to ‘I’ll call when I wake up’?”

“I just woke up, you sound like your mother,” says Wolfgang.

“You  _ just  _ woke up? Shit, Wolfie, what time is it there?”

“About two,” replies Wolfgang, reigniting his cigarette. 

Felix huffs. “You still in Iceland?”

“Paris,” says Wolfgang hesitantly.

“Oh, right, you needed a vacation before seeing your best fucking friend who hasn’t seen you in weeks.” He sighs, then says in a low, worried voice, “What the fuck happened, Wolfie? You’ve been gone for weeks, all you’ve told me is that there’s a girl you care about...”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated like the girl is really a guy and you’re afraid to tell me? Because you know I’ll always accept you, Wolfie.”

Wolfgang smiles, tapping the ash off of his cigarette. “I would have told you that, Felix.”

“I know,” says Felix defeatedly. “You would have.” He sighs. “Are you really okay, Wolfie?”

“I’m okay,” says Wolfgang.

“You know, every time you’ve ever said that me, I find out our definitions of okay are pretty fucking different.”

Wolfgang doesn’t speak. The silence hangs in the air, asking for a response.

Kala hesitates, then says softly, “I know he usually lies about being okay, but he isn’t lying this time.”

A long pause. Then Felix bursts out, “Is that-- are you the girl? The one from India?  _ That  _ girl?”

“Yes, hello,” says Kala cautiously.

“Shit, hello, I’m Felix,” he replies.

Kala laughs. “Yes, I know. I’m Kala.”

“So... you and Wolfgang?” says Felix. “D’you know what you’re getting into?”

Kala looks affectionately at Wolfgang. “I do.”

“Alright, well, tell me how bad he is.”

Kala touches her fingertips to a bruise on Wolfgang’s collarbone. “He’s a little scraped up...”

“Okay,” says Felix. Then he says, “Wait. You're German? Why do you speak German?”

Kala pauses, glancing at Wolfgang, who says once again, “It’s complicated. I want to explain everything to you when I see you.”

“When?” asks Felix.

Kala and Wolfgang look at each other, and then Kala murmurs, “We could go to Berlin. I’ve always wanted to see it. I mean, more than I’ve already seen it. And it’s safe now.”

Wolfgang hesitates, wanting to stay indefinitely in Paris, in this hotel room. However, he also wants to see Felix, to physically shake him and check that he’s whole and explain the past two years of half-truths. 

“We could,” he agrees with a shrug. 

“It’s safe?” asks Felix quietly. 

“We fixed everything,” says Wolfgang dully.

Kala nods, squeezing Wolfgang’s hands. The pain is too recent to feel very victorious or celebratory.

“Okay,” Felix says cautiously. “Thought you might have, the police tape isn’t up at your place anymore.”

“I can’t wait to see it in person,” murmurs Kala. 

Wolfgang knows the exact, disgruntled frown Felix must be wearing right now. 

“The fuck have you been doing?” mumbles Felix. “Facetiming this girl?”

“Not exactly,” says Wolfgang, adding, “we’ll get on a train, okay?”

Felix sighs. “Yeah, okay, Wolfie. I’m. I’m glad you aren’t dead.”

“Love you, too, Felix,” says Wolfgang with a laugh.

“I can’t just fucking say that!” says Felix indignantly. “Not with your girlfriend listening!” He sighs, and Wolfgang knows he’s running a hand through his permanently-messy hair. “Will you get back to Berlin before some new maniac comes after you?”

“Try to,” says Wolfgang. 

“Yes, we will,” promises Kala.

“Okay,” replies Felix with a shaky breath. “See you soon.”

“See you,” agrees Wolfgang, setting the phone roughly aside and looking at Kala. “I wanted to stay in Paris with you.”

“Yes, I know,” she agrees, looking down and soothing a bruise on his knuckles with her touch. “But we can always come back. I  _ do  _ think I want to move here.”

Wolfgang presses a quick kiss to her mouth. “I do too.”

She smiles, fingertips twirling over his palm, and looks up to meet his eyes. His lips twitch, amused by the intensity in her eyes, expecting a kiss. But then she bites her bottom lip, reaches for the pastry bag, and pulls out something chocolatey. 

“I thought you were looking at me like that,” murmurs Wolfgang, “but you were just thinking about dessert.”

“Well, you and this chocolate cake are very similar,” says Kala, licking some frosting off of her thumb as she unwraps the cake. “Delicious, dark, addictive, bad for me--”

Wolfgang interrupts with a laugh and kisses the side of her mouth, then nudges her for a bite. Kala breaks off a piece and puts it in his mouth, then trails her hand down his arm.

“Will you be alright?” she murmurs. “Seeing Berlin again?”

He shrugs. “If you’re there.”

Kala smiles and nuzzles her nose against his. “I will be.” Then she tucks her hair behind her ear, eyes brightening with excitement. “Promise me we’ll go that cafe. And get coffee. And sit at that table.”

Wolfgang nods, hugging her. “Promise.”


	9. July 14, 11:54 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala learns more about Wolfgang's past life. Wolfgang suffers a nightmare.

Kala tucks two train tickets neatly into her purse, then sighs and falls backward onto the bed. Wolfgang glances up from reading a book titled Преступлéние и наказáние. Kala translates in her mind and sees it’s  _ Crime and Punishment _ . She frowns.

“Wolfgang, why can I understand Russian?”

“Because I can understand Russian,” he says, throwing the book aside.

Kala raises an eyebrow. “What else are you hiding?”

He responds with a slight smirk and pats the empty place on the bed next to him. Kala holds up a finger, also smirking, and goes to open the windows to let the cool night air in. Then she curls up next to Wolfgang, picks up the book, and sets her chin on his shoulder.

“Do you read this because you relate to the criminals?” she teases.

He nods, putting a hand on her hip and pulling her closer. “Nothing like murdering two old women with an ax and grappling with the psychological consequences of that for years before being caught and sent to Siberia.”

“Oh, yes, that’s universally relatable,” Kala plays along.

Wolfgang chuckles and takes the book out of her hand and she yawns and snuggles against him.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” she murmurs.

“Felix will kill me if we don’t,” replies Wolfgang.

Kala mumbles in concession, fingertips playing with the buttons on his shirt. “There’s still so much to do here...” She smiles distantly. “Maybe we should have spent less time in the hotel room.”

Wolfgang laughs and rubs his fingers over the stubble around his lips. “Maybe.”

Kala yawns again and reaches to shut off the light. Then she rests her head on Wolfgang’s chest and he kisses the top of her head.

“Why Russian?” she murmurs sleepily. “I thought your family left Russia a long time ago...”

“They did, but the language stayed in the family and the men all spoke Russian when they wanted to hide something. But my mother learned it when she was working in East Berlin, so she taught me.” He shakes his head. “We knew every fucked up detail.”

“And they didn’t know you knew?” asks Kala.

“Not until Sergei told them,” Wolfgang replies, trailing his touch down her arm.

Kala makes a noise of disdain. “Sounds like Sergei.”

Wolfgang laughs at this response, then puts his arms around her waist. She smiles, pressing one of her legs to his good leg, and nuzzles her nose into his collar.

“Could you sleep any closer to me?” he mumbles. 

“Don’t complain,” she says.

“I’m not used to sleeping with someone.”

“Mm, maybe you should have practiced all those years instead of sending your dates home without so much as a thank you...”

“Like Felix says, hit and run baby.”

Kala lifts her head and fixes her boyfriend with a stare. He grins playfully at her, and after a moment, she rolls her eyes and goes back to snuggling with him. 

“I love Felix,” she murmurs, “because  _ you _ love Felix, but he sounds like the kind of man I might slap.”

Wolfgang laughs sleepily and gives her a squeeze. “He means well.”

Kala presses closer. “Well, I’m going to smother you and ruin your sleep for making me listen to that.”

“That’s not a bad punishment,” he replies, kissing the side of her head.

She smiles indulgently, finding his hands in the darkness, tangling their fingers together. She focuses on the scrapes and scars on his knuckles, the calluses on his palms which come with a lifetime of working with locks and picking fights. She can sense how exhausted he still is, despite the fact that this is their fourth night in Paris and he’s slept soundly each night before. She knows the pain persists despite the brave face he puts on. She can feel it, powerful waves that rush through her whole body, needles in her chest, aches in her head. It helps the most to soothe each other with touch, like she’s doing now, running her slim fingers over his knuckles, and the more powerful the touch, the more distracting. But tonight, they’re both too tired for touch like that.

“Why didn’t I know you like to read?” Kala asks as she drifts off.

“Didn’t get around to much of it during the last two years,” he mumbles. “Felix always made fun of me for it, he’d say movies are just like books but you’re done in two hours.”

“Mm, I agree with Felix,” says Kala. “Movies, definitely.”

“They never have enough detail,” he replies.

“But that’s the magic. Movies give you the  _ right _ details.”

“What if I want to decide what the right details are?” he asks.

Kala smiles, hearing Lito laugh in her mind.  _ He sounds like Hernando. _

“You, Mr. Bogdanow, are a snob,” she whispers.

“You, Miss Dandekar,” he replies, “are the only person who makes my name sound any good.”

Kala laughs, then kisses the side of his mouth. “Go to sleep, the train leaves at seven.”

***

Wolfgang has been in this nightmare before, though never so clearly as tonight. At the facility, sleep was difficult, so he spent most of the time in a halfway state, unable to differentiate his unconscious mind from reality. This allowed him to rationalize the images that played over in his mind, to tell himself they weren’t real even when they were, until the pain forced him to confront that; it also let him believe that good images, images which had never existed within the walls of BPO, were real too. But now that he’s safe, it’s not so easy to lie to himself.

Kala stirs softly in her sleep, but in his mind, she isn’t asleep next to him.

_ Wolfgang! Wolfgang, help! _

It’s the image his nightmares always begin with. Kala, two men in Hazmat suits dragging her down a white, lifeless hallway, her feet barely touching the ground. She sobs and scratches and fights, but the grip on her arms is too strong. She screams for him again, voice rough and desperate, but his arms and legs are locked in restraints. He yells for her, but can’t break the restraints.

_ Kala! _

_ Help! Why won’t you help? _

The two men drag her around a corner and the scene changes. Wolfgang can see through her eyes as the interrogators restrain her in a chair, an image which is too familiar, and then he sees her through his own eyes. She’s wearing what she usually is in these nightmares -- a yellow chiffon tank top and jeans, the ones she wore when she met him on the waterfront in Mumbai when they finally decided to be together. Her eyes are wide and terrified, her nose is bleeding, and she shakes her head rapidly, her curls eerily greyscale in the harsh light of the examining table.

_ Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me? _

Her voice is a desperate whine now and she fights uselessly with the restraints. He can smell chemical cleaners, blood, the acrid scent of electricity. 

_ Why aren’t you helping me? _

Tears pour down her cheeks, and then her eyes flash in alarm at the approaching paddles.

_ No...no please, not this... _

His perspective changes again, so he’s the one in the chair, and his body convulses at the touch of the paddles; he can still hear Kala crying, but he can’t see her.

_ Please, please, I’m right here! Wolfgang! _

His body convulses again as a faceless interrogator presses the paddles to his chest, and his head falls forward onto his chest, mouth dripping blood.

_ Wolfgang! Please! _

In his right ear, a cold whisper:  _ I have her now, Mr. Bogdanow... _ And then he can see Kala again, barely conscious in the arms of an interrogator, her face a mess of bruises and blood. Whispers stands nearby, and suddenly, yanks Kala’s head up by her hair.

_ You did this... don’t make it worse than you already have... _

He tries to yell, but the sound doesn’t make it past his throat the first time, so he tries again.  _ I’ll give you anything else! _

Whispers materializes closer than before, his hands gripping each arm of Wolfgang’s chair, his breath pooling over Wolfgang’s face. He simpers.  _ But it’s too late.  _ He drags his index finger along Wolfgang’s jaw, forcing him to look up.  _ You let me in... _

He can hear Kala again, closer.

_ Wolfgang! Wolfgang, please, it’s just me! It’s me!  _

His eyes flash open, chest rising and falling hard, and sees a figure crouched over him. He knows it’s Kala, he  _ knows _ , but something in his mind doesn’t let this knowledge connect and he shakes his head, gripping her arms and pushing her away.

“No, no,” he mumbles. “Leave me alone...”

“Wolfgang,” sobs Kala. “Please, it’s me, you’re awake, you’re okay...”

He keeps shaking his head. “No, no you shouldn’t be here...why are you here...”

“What are you talking about?” whispers Kala desperately. 

“You’ll hurt her...” he mumbles, struggling with her.

“Who are you talking t--?”

He pushes her roughly away and she cries out in pain and surprise. She stares at him from the foot of the bed, cradling her arm, unable to disguise her brief feeling of betrayal. He sits up, disoriented, and looks around the hotel room as if he’s never seen it before. 

“Wolfgang?” she whispers. “Do -- do you know where you are?”

No response. Kala watches him lose his way in another place and time, and she feels her own reality slip away like a necklace down a drain.

“Wolfgang,” she murmurs, shaking. “Wolfgang...”

All she can do is say his name. Her ability to speak his language has inexplicably vanished, perhaps because now, words are beyond him too. She wipes the tears from her face, finding herself with no choice but to try again. She grits her teeth against the throbbing in her wrist and gets to her feet. He watches her as she goes around the side of the bed, eyes gray and unlit, wide and wet. 

“It’s me, it’s Kala,” she murmurs in Hindi. 

He doesn’t move to push her away, so she sits gently next to him and wraps her arms around him; for a moment, he doesn’t respond, and Kala forces herself to shut out memories which whisper and knock at the entrance of her mind, memories of isolation as Wolfgang laid unresponsive on a stretcher, memories of pure loneliness when he couldn’t respond to her touch. Memories of a space between them, a space she didn’t know could exist between Sensates.

She gasps in relief when he puts his arms around her, and then he hugs her tightly, shaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, pressing his face into her shoulder.

Big tears collect on her cheeks and she combs her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, you’re here with me.”

He shakes his head, and she’s shocked to feel him sniffle against her. She can’t recall him crying since Felix was shot.

“It’s okay,” she repeats. 

He shakes his head again. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Kala wrinkles her brow. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t recognize you, and I...I...” He trails off, pulling back and looking at her wrist. He rubs his face and breathes out harshly. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Kala glances nervously at her arm. “It’s just a sprain.”

“I should have recognized you,” he says dully, lifting his shirt up to dry his face. 

Kala presses closer, wanting to take him back into her arms, but he shies away. 

“You were scared, you didn’t know where you were--”   


“This is going to keep happening, and if you’re here at the wrong time I could hurt you. I can’t hurt you, Kala. I can’t keep hurting you.”

“Wolfgang, look at me,” Kala says forcefully, taking his face in her hands. “Look at me,” she repeats when he continues to stare at the floor. He reluctantly meets her gaze and she brushes her thumb under each of his eyes, collecting residual moisture. “I’m not leaving you alone with those nightmares. You need me here when you wake up.”

“But what if I--”

“No,” murmurs Kala. “You do  _ not _ get to isolate yourself from me.”

He nods slowly. She runs her hands over his shoulders and nods in response.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbles, looking down. “What does it mean if I can’t recognize you? What if it’s worse next time and...”

“Then it’s worse,” says Kala, carding her fingers through his hair again.

He shakes his head. “None of this...” He sets his jaw against the urge to break down again. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t trusted the wrong people. I deserve this, but you don’t--”

“You do  _ not _ deserve this!” says Kala fiercely, trying not to sound too frustrated with him. “You do not deserve any of this, Wolfgang. Not a moment of it.”

He shrugs again, then murmurs, “But neither do you and I’ve already hurt you too much.” He looks down, grief wrapped around his shoulders like the arms of an attacker. He shakes his head. “Always the same...”

“What is?” asks Kala gently.

“The nightmares,” he says, fixated on the pattern of the sheets, finding a detail to keep himself above water while he speaks. “It’s always you, they always...take you...because of me.”

“It was impossible to hide from Whispers, you know that...”

“I should have tried harder,” he says. 

“There’s nothing more you could have done,” she replies with a quiet sigh. “Why torture yourself when we’re all safe?”

“Because that doesn’t matter,” he says sharply. “I put you in danger, I put all of you in danger.”

“But we’re safe,” sighs Kala.

“That’s not the point! I made a mistake, this is what I do when I make a mistake.”

Kala shakes her head, taking his hands, and cautiously says, “No one is going to hurt you for making mistakes.”

She sees a gleam of brighter blue, his eyes when he was a boy. 

“You don’t need to analyze everything you did wrong anymore,” she goes on, thumbing over his knuckles. 

He looks at her for a long time and finally nods. Then he gently takes her arm in his hand and looks at her swollen wrist.

“It could be worse,” she murmurs.

“Hold on,” he says quietly, stretching to snag her purse from the bedside table.

He pulls out the first aid kit which she’s carried with her since the day her father in law was attacked, then opens it and takes out a roll of self-adherent bandage. Kala watches him, a slow smile starting in the corner of her mouth. He looks up at her with a steady gaze.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he informs her.

She laughs. “I’ll show you, here...” She holds out her wrist. “Just go slow, make sure you apply enough pressure, I’ll let you know if it hurts.” 

He nods, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he wraps her wrist.

“Okay,” says Kala, letting out a breath. “Now just make sure it’s adhering...okay, good.”

He looks back up at her. “Done?”

“Done,” she says, and then she giggles suddenly, looking at the box the bandage came in. “Wolfgang, look, this is called Sensi-Wrap.”

He laughs tiredly and shakes his head.

“Made especially for Sensates!” she goes on. “So this is bound to heal extra quickly...”

He shakes his head again, then looks up and squeezes her hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he says seriously.

“I know,” she murmurs. “I think I’m unusually breakable. This wouldn’t have happened with any of the others.”   


“Lito,” says Wolfgang.

“Mm, yes, true,” agrees Kala. “He would have cried if you sprained his wrist.” 

He chuckles. She smooths her thumbs over his cheeks and kisses him.

“We should try to sleep if we’re going to Berlin tomorrow...” she says.

He nods and they settle down in the pillows again, although this time, it’s Kala who’s holding Wolfgang and not the other way around. She gives his shoulders a gentle massage, waiting to hear his breathing slow; when it finally does, she puts an arm under her head and stares at the ceiling, frightened by the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is fluffier, I promise. Yes, Sensi-Wrap is a real thing, and you can buy it on Amazon.


	10. July 15, 5:09 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang arrive in Berlin, Felix and Kala get closer, and everyone gets drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who is familiar with Berlin can laugh at my attempt to describe the city. Sorry, Berliners.

Kala and Wolfgang grip hands as they walk through Berlin Central Train Station. By this time, Wolfgang has traded his crutches for a cane and has shaved, and Kala has removed the bandage from her wrist, managing the pain with some aspirin. It’s about five in the evening, and being July, the sun is still fairly high in the sky, so when they step outside, Kala tilts her head back in the sunlight, grinning. 

“Hello Berlin,” she murmurs, putting on a pair of sunglasses and beaming at Wolfgang.

“You look like a movie star,” he tells her.

She stretches on tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you, babe.” Then she kisses him again. “I’m very glad you shaved, although, it’s rather strange kissing you with  _ no _ stubble.”

“Oh, it’ll come back,” he assures her, laughing. 

She looks around. The city immediately around the train station is rather flat and industrial. 

“Which way?”

“South, there’s a path that starts over here,” he says, adding, “figured we would walk, it’s only about three kilometers.”

“To...?”

“Felix’s,” he says. “I thought we would go to my place after.”

Kala nods, then smiles and chirps, “For a long time, I was under the impression you were roommates.”

“With Felix?” asks Wolfgang, and Kala laughs loudly at his indignant expression. “No, Felix is a slob. The only reason he gets any business is because I clean up all his shit.” He shrugs. “Besides, he lives above the shop, too noisy.”

“So where do you live?” she asks as they turn left off of the transit patio, towards a river.

“Few blocks away,” says Wolfgang.

Kala nods, looking around as they reach a river. “What river is this? And yes, I  _ am _ going to ask you what every river, building, sculpture, and street sign is called. I want to know everything.”

Wolfgang snorts. “I love you. That’s the Spree River.”

Kala nods, smiling widely as she looks around. “It’s beautiful here.” She glances at him. “Is it good to be back?”

He takes a moment to look around the city, then can’t hold back a smile. “It is.”

“Good,” she murmurs, then points at a large, flag-bearing building across the river. “I know that! That’s the Reichstagsgebäude. Hello, Parliament!” She waves, giddy. “What a gorgeous building! I love the architecture...who are those statues of on the spires?”

“I didn’t pay enough attention in civics to tell you that.”

“I doubt you paid enough attention in civics to pass,” she retorts.

“I didn’t,” he agrees with a laugh. 

They continue to walk, Kala taking in the details of the buildings and exclaiming about small things like the amount of bicycles, trees, and dogs. 

“This is beginning to look familiar,” she says softly as they walk further south.

“I live around here,” he says, pointing at a nondescript brick building. “That’s where I usually work out.” Then at a small market. “Where I get groceries.”

Kala looks at him. “It’s hard to imagine you shopping for groceries.” She flashes a grin. “I thought you survived on vodka and cigarettes alone.”

He nods. “Nearly do. I order out most of the time instead of shopping because I am...” He searches for the right phrase. “A  _ slightly _ better cook than Will.”

Kala giggles. Will’s incredible lack of culinary skill was discovered by them all while in Iceland, and has become a bit of a theme.

“Oh no. I guess I’ll be the one cooking...”

“I’ll do all the cleaning,” he replies. 

“Deal,” agrees Kala, leaning to kiss his cheek. 

They continue south for a few minutes, and then Wolfgang pulls Kala through a small park and out onto a new street. 

“Nearly there,” he mentions, glancing at his phone and chuckling. “Felix is losing his mind.”

“Why do you say that?” asks Kala

Wolfgang shows her the text on his screen. 

_ where ARE you guys it’s almost six and I’m hungry as fuck and the nerves aren’t helping I feel like some orphan who’s about to meet his birth parents this is a big fucking deal and you aren’t even texting me back do you know how high my fucking expectations are this woman is your GIRLFRIEND like honest to god girlfriend so I’m wearing my good shoes see you soon you fucker _

“That is an  _ impressive _ run-on sentence,” says Kala faintly. 

“That’s Felix,” says Wolfgang with a smile. 

Kala shakes her head, laughing. “His good shoes?”

“Expect something bright-colored,” replies Wolfgang, also laughing. 

He pockets his phone and reaches for Kala’s hand again. They turn left on a cobblestone street where the buildings are older and graffitied. Wolfgang points.

“Up there, on the left.”

Kala takes a deep breath. “Okay. It’s just Felix. I can meet Felix.”

“Nervous?” asks Wolfgang.

“A bit,” admits Kala.

They take the last few steps, and then Felix flies out of the shop, a blur of cobalt-colored shoes and messy long hair. He runs into Wolfgang hard enough to nearly knock him off balance (his cane clatters on the street) and hugs him hard enough to cause some serious pain. Then he holds him at arm's length, brow wrinkled, usually-playful eyes wide with alarm.

“What the fuck?  _ Okay?  _ This was what you meant by okay? Your fucking leg’s broken! How did you break your leg? Fuck, Wolfie, your face...” Felix shakes his head rapidly, squeezing Wolfgang’s shoulders. “You’ve got to stop fucking defining okay as  _ not dead _ .” 

Wolfgang looks down, laughing, his grin nearly splitting his face. “Hi, Felix.”

Felix continues to shake his head, but he’s also grinning. He smacks Wolfgang’s arm.

“You look like total shit,” he says. “And you shaved! What the fuck?”

Then he turns to look at Kala, who is hanging back by a few feet. She waves shyly, and Felix looks at Wolfgang and says, “Holy shit.”

Kala turns slightly pink and takes a step forward. She was going to shake Felix’s hand, but Wolfgang’s exuberance is infectious, so she pulls Felix into a tight hug. His eyes widen in surprise, but Wolfgang grins approvingly at him, so he hugs Kala back. 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she says quietly, holding on longer than she intended, expressing Wolfgang’s feelings.

“I fucking hope not,” says Felix, laughing. 

She pulls back and lets him go only after squeezing both of his hands. He clears his throat and Wolfgang braces for the inevitably embarrassing follow-up.

“You’re  _ very _ pretty, like seriously out of his league,” says Felix. “And you smell like fucking marzipan.”

“Marzipan?” asks Kala.

“Almonds with rose water, we put that shit in everything in Germany,” says Felix, adding, “but you know that, you must have grown up here or something, your German’s perfect.”

“Um...we...we will explain that in a moment,” says Kala. She looks down at Felix’s shoes, searching for a change of topic. “Those are some very nice shoes.”

He sticks out his skinny ankle and shakes his foot. The shoes are bright metallic blue with black and red laces. “Thank you! Bought them after I found out Wolfie wasn’t dead. Had to celebrate somehow. So is Lila dead? Preferably in some kind of violent explosion?”

Kala raises an eyebrow. “Well, she is, but that’s rather complicated too.”

“Knew she was fucking trouble,” says Felix, turning and going back towards the shop. “Wolfie’s stupid like that.”

“I like this man, Wolfgang,” teases Kala. “Why didn’t you listen to him?”

“Have you tried getting Wolfgang to listen when he’s already made a decision? Well, maybe it works for you because you have the advantage of being his girlfriend, but he’s fucking stubborn.”

Kala beams at Wolfgang, who rolls his eyes, as they walk up to the shop. But Kala stops short of the door, staring at the window. 

“Oh, this is amazing!” she says, surveying the painting on the window, which features a landscape, sun and moon, and several bears, one of which is holding an Easter basket; another bear has devil horns and a small pitchfork. “Ooh, who did this?”

Felix looks at Wolfgang, a slow smirk spreading on his lips. “Hold on. You haven’t told her about your artistic ways?”

Kala stares at Wolfgang, and then she squeals and throws her hands over her mouth.

“ _ You _ painted the window?”

“Yeah, he does that every holiday,” says Felix. “He’s actually fucking great at it. Regular Jack Dawson right there. Artistic chainsmoker who wouldn’t blink about seducing some rich engaged lady and asking if he could draw her naked? That sounds exactly fucking like you, Wolfie.”

Kala and Wolfgang make the mistake of looking at each other with a matching frown. Felix squints, then grins slowly.

“Part of the complicated is that you’re married, right?” he asks Kala, showing unusual reserve.

“Possibly,” Kala says shortly. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

Felix nods, grinning hugely, and waves them into the shop. “Fucking married...okay, here’s the shop, pretty basic.” He points at a spot on the floor near a cabinet. “Almost died right there. I think there’s still a bit of blood on the floor, I kind of like it, you know? Gives this place a little fucking character.” He frowns at Kala. “Not curious about how I nearly died? Serve yourself, great story...”

Kala can feel Wolfgang’s memory of this moment in her bones like a dive into freezing water. She tries to smile pleasantly and shake her head.

“I already know all about that, actually,” she tells him.

“Figures Wolfie would tell you,” says Felix, shaking his head. “Still have the scars, which the damsels really go for by the way.” He glances at Wolfgang and gestures. “Looks like that’s two of us, now.”

Wolfgang smiles halfheartedly. “You haven’t seen half of it.”

“What happened? No, I’ll wait, I’ll wait till dinner. But then you owe me a big fucking explanation.”

“Yes, dinner! I’m starving!” says Kala brightly, turning her attention away from her study of the shop -- so far she has discovered two black-and-white posters of busty, scantily-clad women, a stash of vodka, scattered books (which must annoy Felix), scrap paper with miscellaneous orders, and a small kitchen area with discarded take-out containers. 

“What do you want?” asks Wolfgang. 

“Anything,” she replies, then adds, “Pasta. Garlic bread.”

Felix points at her. “I like this girl.”

Kala smiles at him, shouldering her purse higher and reaching to take Wolfgang’s hand.

“Let’s go,” she says happily, adding as they go out the door, “You have a lovely business, Felix.”

“Oh, uh -- thank you,” he says, caught off-guard. “I tried to keep it clean while Wolfie was gone, he’s kind of my housewife. I don’t mean that, you know, in a derogatory way! He just thinks I’m a fucking slob.”

“You are a fucking slob,” says Wolfgang affectionately, adjusting his cane as they go down the street towards the nearest Italian restaurant. “Big brother would have worked instead of housewife, for future reference.”

“Big brother? Bullshit! I was the one who took care of  _ you _ when we were kids!”

Wolfgang shrugs. “I’m older than you.”   


“By a month!” says Felix in outrage. 

Kala watches this exchange with a small, amused smile, surprised to find herself so happy that Felix is part of her life now. Somehow, she knows she would like him even outside of her relationship with Wolfgang, even if he is entirely too exuberant.

“Still older,” says Wolfgang. 

“I’d punch you right now, but you’re injured, so I’ll let you off.”

Kala grins. “I can’t imagine you would win a fight with Wolfgang.”

“No, I wouldn’t, nobody fucking can, but he never has the heart to hit me back.”

“See,  _ that _ makes him the big brother,” says Kala authoritatively. “Daya would  _ always _ attack me first, usually something involving my hair because I’ve always had such long hair and she was jealous of it, but I never hurt her in retaliation.”

“But you  _ did _ retaliate,” murmurs Wolfgang. 

“With words,” says Kala defensively. “Sometimes by ruining a favorite toy...sometimes by telling her she was cursed by an angry god...”

“I think the gods got you back for that one,” says Wolfgang.

Kala winks softly at him. “It’s okay. I think I’ve come to like the demon they sent after me...”

Felix looks back and forth at them. “The fuck are you talking about?”

Kala and Wolfgang hold each other’s gaze for another moment, trying not to laugh, then look innocently at Felix. 

Wolfgang shrugs. “Inside joke.”   


“Okay, fine, great, inside joke,” says Felix, waving him off.

They turn down a narrow tree-lined street with a variety of small, graffiti-covered buildings and strings of warm lights over patios. 

“This is very artsy,” murmurs Kala. 

“She’s right,” says Felix. “We should take her to that place in Friedrichshain, that place is the tits! C’mon, Wolfie, something fancy, we’re celebrating!”

“What are we celebrating?” asks Wolfgang.

Felix gestures wildly at Kala. “What are we celebrating? Uh, duh, your sweet perfect girlfriend who is completely normal unlike any woman you’ve ever been with who you  _ somehow  _ convinced to put up with you! Like, she looks really in love with you, it’s kind of freaking me out!”

Kala turns bright pink and looks down to hide a grin. Wolfgang laughs.

“Sure, Felix, Friedrichshain,” he says. 

“That place is really fucking romantic,” says Felix. “Seriously dreamy shit.”

Kala smirks. “We could be the new Lito, Hernando, and Dani.”

“Who’re they?” asks Felix.

“Friends,” says Wolfgang. 

“A gay couple and their best friend,” fills in Kala.

Felix frowns. “So I’m Dani in this situation?”

“You’re  _ such _ a Dani,” Kala says happily and Wolfgang chuckles in agreement.

“Do they live here?” asks Felix, adding to Wolfgang, “Since when do you have gay friends?” He quickly looks at Kala and goes on, “Not that there’s anything wrong with having gay friends! We just don’t. Not a great image in the mobster world, bunch of fucking homophobes and racists, you know. Just goes with the game.”

Kala nods in understanding and replies, “I always got that impression from Sergei and Steiner.”

Felix’s eyebrows jump and he looks at Wolfgang. “She knows about that shit?”

“She knows everything,” admits Wolfgang, reaching for Kala’s hand and squeezing it.

Felix slows his pace to watch, stunned, as Kala and Wolfgang meet eyes and smile gently at each other. Felix shakes his head slightly as if clearing his mind. 

“ _ Whoa _ , okay, so this is...” He pauses. “This is  _ real _ then. Shit, Wolfie! You’re gonna do it. You’re gonna find your own fucking Wuppertal with this girl and settle down and get married and make babies. Shit, man! I thought you’d never do that! Who am I gonna go fuck things up with now?”

“Oh, slow down,” says Kala, eyes wide.

“I mean, no pressure,” adds Felix nervously. “Though I’d be a great fucking uncle.”

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows at Felix. “Done?”

“Done,” agrees Felix, letting out a huff of pent-up breath. “So, Friedrichshain, we should get on the U-Bahn, station’s right up here...”

Kala pulls her hand softly up Wolfgang’s arm, then pinches his waist and looks at him with wide, teasing eyes. He shakes his head and laughs.

“Sorry about Felix,” he says.

“No, I love him,” Kala replies sincerely. 

Wolfgang’s mouth twitches in a smile and he nods. They pick up their pace to come even with Felix, and the three of them continue to walk towards the U-Bahn. They go down the stairs into the station -- Wolfgang slowly, Felix watching him with an expression of extreme worry -- and then wait for the train on the platform. Felix still hasn’t taken his eyes off of Wolfgang, who is panting quietly, head down, gritting his teeth. He looks in concern at Kala.

“Is he...?”

“He’s just in pain,” murmurs Kala, patting Wolfgang’s back. “He’ll be okay in a moment.”

“What...what the fuck happened?” asks Felix faintly.

But the train arrives and the three of them walk onto it. Felix takes a seat across from Kala and Wolfgang, watching as she smooths her fingers over his temple and through his hair. Wolfgang eventually shakes his head in apology.

“Sorry, leg still hurts when I use it too much,” he says feebly, looking at Felix. 

“How’s your breathing?” asks Kala softly.

He shrugs. “Probably should have my lungs looked at.”

“Lungs?” asks Felix in alarm. 

“Coughed up a lot of blood,” explains Wolfgang.

Felix nods slowly. “That...that happens when you get beat up bad.”

Wolfgang just nods, leaning back. Kala looks briefly at Felix, tries to smile, and then goes back to comforting Wolfgang with small touches. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” says Felix halfheartedly. 

Wolfgang laughs. “Yeah, several.”

Felix leans forward and pats Wolfgang’s knee. “You’ll be okay, eh Wolfie? You always come back from shit like this. Hey, remember when your dad broke your arm, and you spent the whole fucking time recovering by drinking beer and eating that shit-tasting chocolate popcorn at my place while we watched Buffy?”

Wolfgang grins. “Best summer of my life.”

Felix laughs and Kala smiles at both of them. Felix spends the rest of the ride asking Kala about her childhood in Mumbai and at University, an unspoken strategy to give Wolfgang a few minutes to recover. By the time they step off the train and walk up to street-level, a blue-pink dusk has settled on the city; the street lamps are lit and many of the trees are outlined with tiny, blinking bulbs.

“Oh,” sighs Kala. “It’s so beautiful here. You might talk me into this instead of Paris.”

Felix makes a face. “Paris? You two moving to Paris?”

“We’re talking about it,” admits Wolfgang.

“Shit, man, don’t leave me alone in Berlin!” groans Felix. “Course, I will have a much better time with the female population without you taking more than your fair fucking share--” He stops himself and clears his throat. “Uh...fair share of...”

“Oh, it’s alright, Felix,” says Kala, voice full of mischief. “I know about the women.” She raises an eyebrow. “I  _ also _ know they were all substitutions for the woman he really wanted.”

Wolfgang glances at her with the cheeky half-smile she’s grown accustomed to seeing whenever she teases or surprises him.

“She’s right,” he murmurs to Felix.

“Of course I’m right,” she says brightly as the turn a corner into a softly-lit courtyard lined with restaurants. She presses close to Wolfgang and kisses his cheek. “Now buy me dinner.”

Wolfgang resists the urge to give her playful spank, but she sees the impulse in his eyes and smirks willfully at him. Felix watches this exchange, confused and slightly grossed out, and then they stop at the awning of the restaurant. 

“Fuck yeah, we’re getting bourgie tonight,” says Felix.

Kala wrinkles her brow. “Bourgie?”

“Bourgeoisie, baby!” shouts Felix. “This place is high fucking budget, man.”

A hostess greets them at the entrance and guides them to a table on the patio. Kala orders some white wine, Felix some vodka, and Wolfgang a beer.

“You’re gonna date a woman who drinks wine?” Felix asks, gesturing at Kala.

Wolfgang smiles and shrugs. “No one’s perfect.”

Kala laughs and kicks Wolfgang under the table. They look at the menu for a moment and all decide on copious servings of pasta, which they order when the waitress brings them their drinks.

Kala takes a large sip of wine and moans happily. “Mm, you know, I never used to drink very much but I think Wolfgang may be a bad influence in that department.”

“No shit, he started me on beer when we were eleven,” agrees Felix. He takes his shot of vodka, motions at the waitress for another, and then sets the glass down hard. “Okay, showtime. How’d you meet and what the fuck happened to Wolfie?”

Kala looks at Wolfgang, dark fearful eyes reflecting candlelight. She blinks slowly, then takes Wolfgang’s hand under the table.

_ Talk for me. Please. _

Kala nods softly and looks back at Felix. She’s done this once before, and she doubts Felix will be a harder sell than Rajan.

“So, Felix,” she begins carefully. “The reason we wanted to talk to you in person is that this is all rather strange. As you might have guessed by now, I’m not German, I’ve never been to Berlin, in fact I spent all of my life in India until very recently, just as Wolfgang spent all of his here. So how we met...we...well, perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself.” She takes a breath and has another sip of wine. “I know this seems...impossible...but there are some people who evolved differently. There are homo sapiens, but there are other species too. That is, there is more than one way to be human, and more than one human species...”

She trails off as Felix’s jaw threatens to drop.

“How -- how the fuck is this related?” murmurs Felix.

“Be patient,” says Kala. “This...other species can connect with each other...differently. Most hominids lost the ability to truly empathize...their brains changed so that they could take advantage of others more easily and feel less sympathy. But not every hominid evolved that way.” She sighs, unable to read Felix’s blank, stunned expression. “Some of us retained empathy, so we... we experience feelings and sensations differently and we can connect with others like us even if they are...very far away.”

Felix stares for a moment after Kala falls silent, then holds up a hand.

“So, first things first,” he says. “You and Wolfie are a different kind of human being.”

Kala hesitates, then nods. 

Felix whistles, then takes his second shot of vodka. “Holy shit. Are you joking?”

Kala shakes her head nervously. “No, we...wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Remember that headache I had two years ago?” interrupts Wolfgang.

Felix frowns. “Yeah, I do, you came back from the club early, you never do that.”

Wolfgang nods. “It’s because it wasn’t just a headache. I started to see other people and hear them in my head. I thought it was the drugs, but it kept happening.”

“There’s eight of us,” says Kala and she sits forward, sipping her wine. “There’s Wolfgang and me, obviously, and then there’s Riley Blue, she’s a DJ in Iceland, and her boyfriend Will Gorski, he’s a cop in Chicago, and Sun Bak, a businesswoman in South Korea, Capheus Onyango, he was just elected in Kenya, Nomi Marks, she’s a professional hacker in San Francisco, and Lito Rodriguez, an actor in Mexico--”

“Wait. Lito Rodriguez? Like,  _ the _ Lito Rodriguez? Our Father Who Art In Hell?  _ That _ Rodriguez?”

Wolfgang chuckles. “Movie buff. Yeah, that Lito Rodriguez.”

“He’s in your head? Like, you can hear what he hears and see what he sees and feels what he feels? Shit, Wolfie!”

Wolfgang nods, laughing. Then he looks at Kala. “I can, with all of them, but I mostly hear and see and feel her. It was always her. Couldn’t get her out of my head.”

“Wait, wait,” says Felix while Kala kisses Wolfgang’s cheek. “So, she’d just...appear? In your head? Or like you were really seeing her?”

“I would really see her. I didn’t understand it at first. But from the moment I saw her...” He shrugs and takes a drink of beer. “I couldn’t let her go.”

Kala nods, blushing. “It was very sudden and so intense and urgent...but we both  _ knew _ .” 

Wolfgang tangles his fingers with hers under the table. He smiles lightly. “We did.”

“But it was also complicated, because...” Kala sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Well, I was engaged to a powerful man in Mumbai, a pharmaceutical CEO’s son, and my parents were very excited for me and then I met Wolfgang and everything changed.”

“I wasn’t as delicate about it as I should have been,” says Wolfgang with a shrug.

“By that he means he showed up naked at my wedding. And I fainted.”

Felix stares, then bursts into loud laughter. “Fuck, what an asshole!”

“It just happened,” says Wolfgang, laughing, motioning at the waitress for shots. “Didn’t realize it was her wedding, I just felt how terrified she was and...ended up there.”

“Why did you  _ faint _ ?” asks Felix, snorting. 

“Is  _ everyone _ except me accustomed to uninvited nudity?” asks Kala, indignant. 

“Yes,” Wolfgang and Felix say together, then grin at each other and touch knuckles.

Kala rolls her eyes. “ _ Anyway _ , I called the wedding off and Wolfgang and I started to see more of each other--”

“How much more was there to see?” asks Felix, barely able to contain himself.

Wolfgang slumps on the table, laughing into his hands.

Kala rolls her eyes again, smiling, and sits back to sip her wine while they collect themselves.

“Okay, okay,” hiccups Felix. “So you would just appear in front of each other? How the fuck does that work?”

“It’s through something called the psycelium,” says Kala. “Think of it as roots...underneath the ground they are all connected, but on the surface, the individual plants seem separate."

“So everyone like you can do that?”

Wolfgang shakes his head. “Just within a Cluster. So, any of us who have the same birthday.”.

“We took the same first breath,” explains Kala softly. “And we were reborn at the same moment.”

“The headache?” guesses Felix as the vodkas arrive. 

Wolfgang nods. “Our brains changed.”

“It was quite painful,” reflects Kala. 

“Shit,” murmurs Felix. Then he gestures at the shots. “I’m not getting drunk alone. This is a lot to take in.”

Wolfgang chuckles and reaches for a shot. Kala follows, and the three of them throw the liquor back.

“So, you’re a different kind of human who shares a fucking consciousness with other men and women all over the place, and you didn’t tell me.”

“We had enough shit going on, Felix,” says Wolfgang. “And would you have believed me?”

Felix scoffs and gestures. “What does it look like I’m doing right now? You’re not creative enough to come up with shit at this level, Wolfie. And since when haven’t I accepted whatever was going on with you?”

Wolfgang nods, finishing his beer. “I’m sorry. But it’s complicated.”

“ _ More _ complicated?” asks Felix.

Kala feels Wolfgang stiffen next to her.

“There was a powerful organization, BPO, who wanted to eradicate Sensates.” 

“Sensates?” asks Felix.

“That’s what we’re called, from our species name, homo sensorium,” explains Kala, and then she hesitates. “Felix, did you happen to hear about the research facility in Italy which exploded last month?”

Felix nods, and then his gaze drifts to Wolfgang’s bruised face. He starts to shake his head. “No, man... no way.”

“That’s why I couldn’t tell you," says Wolfgang. "Too dangerous. We were on the run, they hunted us because they knew if they could find one, they could find all of us...”

“They found Riley, first, but we rescued her before they could...make her talk.”

Felix looks unsurely at Wolfgang, each flick of his eyes betraying the connections he’s begun to make. He opens his mouth to speak, but Wolfgang pats the table.

“Gotta piss,” he says, getting to his feet. 

Kala stares after him as he leaves, and then she turns back to Felix, struck by how alone she feels when separated from Wolfgang. She sips her wine, tucking her hair neatly behind her ear, but she can’t hide her glassy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, sniffling and wiping her eyes gently. “I don’t...I don’t think he can talk about it yet.”

“They got him,” says Felix, equally solemn. “BPO.”

Kala nods, a few tears falling. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect to cry--”

“Hey, nonsense, I’m about to fucking cry. What did they do to him?”

Kala shrugs hopelessly, sure she won’t find the right words. “It was Lila. She was like us, she gave him to BPO...and Wolfgang...” She sniffles into her hand and takes a needy sip of wine. “Wolfgang doesn’t talk easily, so they...”

She trails off but Felix nods in understanding. She holds her hand out for Felix to take and cries quietly for a moment.

“It was...everything you see in movies,” she murmurs. “They beat him and when that didn’t work they...well, they had these paddles, the kind you use to restart someone’s heart but when you use that on a conscious body, it’s...”

She remembers thinking her skin had been burned off of her chest; she remembers the acidic rush of blood in her lungs, the blood coursing out of her mouth and ears.

“It’s terrible,” she says feebly and Felix squeezes her hand.

“How-- how long did they do that to him?” Felix asks, not wanting the answer.

“Weeks,” murmurs Kala. “I’m not sure how much of it he remembers, but he...he has horrible nightmares and flashbacks and...”

“Like those poor fucking kids who come home from war zones,” mumbles Felix. 

Kala nods. “Yes, exactly.” She pauses and lets out a small whine in her attempt not to sob. She gestures helplessly. “I just -- I just want to help him, but I don’t know how -- and he can’t forgive himself for giving me away to them, even though I was perfectly fine and...”   


Felix nods seriously. “He doesn’t like being helped. And he’s shit at forgiving himself.”

“Yes, yes, but he needs to and...” Kala sighs and finishes her wine. She shuts her eyes and tries to collect herself. “Sometimes he isn’t my Wolfgang anymore, he isn’t himself. They took that from him.”

Felix pauses, shaking with rage he thinks he should suppress in front of Kala. But he can’t help it when his face contorts.

“Are they dead?” he asks, voice barely controlled.

Kala meets his eyes grimly. “Yes. They’re all dead.”

Felix nods. “Good.  _ Fuck _ them. Wish I could have been there to kill the sons of bitches. Like Wolfie needed any other shit in his life.”

Kala shakes her head miserably. “He was barely surviving before any of this happened and I...I married Rajan, I left him alone, he wouldn’t have been so reckless if--”

“No, stop, don’t do that.”

Kala looks up, annoyed. “What ?”

“Blame yourself for his shit decisions, take it upon yourself to fix what’s broken about him.”

Kala pauses. “I just...” She laughs at herself and wipes her face. “I wish it hadn’t happened, which is such a useless and stupid thing to wish for...”

“No, I wish that too,” says Felix softly. He sits back, sick to his stomach, and shakes his head. “Poor Wolfie. How did you get him out?”   


“We all went to Italy, we...infiltrated BPO, we found the ones on our side...and we killed anyone who wasn’t, so that the only ones left would rebuild the organization.” She sniffles into her napkin. “I used to find violence, all violence, simply useless and unimaginable in my own life but when I...” Her voice changes, hollow and slightly rough. “When I saw him like that...”

“Yeah, you wanted blood,” guesses Felix. 

Kala nods, eyes fixed on a distant streetlight. “He was in so much pain.”

Felix feels a slight shiver travel through him, and ventures his other hand on the table. Kala looks up and notices his eyes are wet.

“Oh, Felix,” she says, smiling weakly, taking his hand.

He shrugs and sniffles. “Not fair. Wolfie never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Always took care of me, and he clearly loves the fuck out of you. He...” Felix trails off and laughs, like Kala did, at himself, at the anomaly of holding hands with a woman he barely knows, crying with her. “He’s such a secret softie, you know, one time I got really fucking sick, we were seventeen and Wolfie doesn’t know shit about cooking, but he dug through his mom’s old recipes and made me chicken soup, fucking chicken soup...”

“I just love him so much,” says Kala in a high, breathy voice.

Felix nods. “Me too."

And then they both laugh again, before Kala sobs. 

“Oh dear,” murmurs Kala. “I think I should have turned down the vodka...”

“Crying juice,” agrees Felix, squeezing her hands. He looks up. “He’ll be okay though, yeah? His leg and lungs and shit? You’re a doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor,” murmurs Kala. “But yes, he will.”

Felix nods. “Okay.” He shakes his head. “Fucking glad you’re with him, you’re good for him.”

Kala smiles weakly. “Thank you. You are too. Maybe we could stay in Berlin for a while, and maybe you could meet our Cluster.”

Felix nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that!”

Kala smiles wider, but her chin trembles. “Thank you for understanding everything, we thought you would but...”

“Yeah, bit of a fucking sci-fi story but I always knew something was up with Wolfie,” says Felix. “There’s more in the world we don’t understand than we do, you know?”

“Yes!” agrees Kala softly. “Yes, exactly!”

They laugh again, and then jump when Wolfgang returns to the table. They look up at him -- he’s standing still, shocked, staring at the two of them holding hands and crying -- and both turn slightly pink. Then Felix gets to his feet and simply pulls Wolfgang into a hug.

“Fuck, man, I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, and Wolfgang grips him tightly, realizing the conversation they must have just had. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m here now, have Kala, you, it’s okay,” mutters Wolfgang.

“No, it’s not fucking okay,” says Felix. “But you’re safe, that’s what matters.”

Wolfgang nods, then pulls Felix closer and kisses the side of his head. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Felix laughs, sniffling, and smacks Wolfgang’s arm. “Yeah, you too.”

Wolfgang sits down next to Kala again, and she presses a lingering kiss to his mouth. He smiles, wiping his thumb under her eyes to collect the tears.

“Rō'ō mata, jaanii*,” he murmurs. 

Kala sniffles and nods, and Wolfgang tucks her hair behind her ear and kisses her forehead.

“Oh, so the language shit is part of being a...Sensate,” Felix sounds out. “So you speak Hindi now?”

“And Spanish, Icelandic, English, Korean, Swahili...” Kala lists off, adding with a smirk, “And Russian, as I recently learned.”

“Shit, man, you should like...get paid and shit for that,” murmurs Felix.

“You could be a professor,” adds Kala, snuggling against Wolfgang. 

“Yeah, that’s hot,” replies Felix. 

“Mhmm,” agrees Kala. “Professor Bogdanow...”

Wolfgang looks at both of them with a serious frown. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re drunk,” Kala says brightly.

“We weigh less than you,” adds Felix. 

Wolfgang snorts and shakes his head, then laughs some more when the food arrives and Kala squeals in delight. 

“Oh, pasta, thank god!” she almost-shouts.

Felix asks the waitress for a bottle of wine, and then they all delve into the pasta. Two hours later, the three of them walk slowly back to Wolfgang’s apartment, arguing about movies. Having had a bottle of wine with their food, then splitting a large piece of chocolate cake with more wine, then having a vodka nightcap, they aren’t perfectly stable, especially Wolfgang, who forgot his cane at the restaurant and is using Kala as a brace. 

“Nah, nah, man, we’re not watching Con Air, I’ve seen that too many fucking times!”

“Not Transformers,” mumbles Wolfgang.

“C’mon, that or it’s live-action Scooby Doo...”

Wolfgang snorts, leaning against Kala, who pushes him upright. “Honey, you’re twice as big as me, this isn’t working...”

“Felix, help my tiny girlfriend--”

“I’m not  _ tiny _ !” 

“You’re tiny,” says Felix, stepping to Wolfgang’s other side and helping him walk.

Kala growls like a diminutive but fierce cat, then giggles and shouts, “The Princess Bride!”

“Yes!” agrees Felix, digging in his pocket for the keys to Wolfgang’s apartment. “Classic! I like this girl!”

He pushes the door open, and Kala leans sleepily against Wolfgang as they walk into his apartment. She’s too tired, and admittedly too tipsy, to take in the details of Wolfgang’s life; that will have to wait until tomorrow. The three of them collapse on the couch, and then Felix sighs and forces himself up, putting in the movie.

“Be right back, getting a drink--”

“Felix, no,” moans Kala.

“I’ll have a double,” says Wolfgang.

Kala giggles softly and snuggles against him, and he pulls her closer so her legs are in his lap. 

“You and Felix...” she murmurs, “got me  _ very _ drunk...”

“That’s what we do,” laughs Wolfgang, thumbing over her thigh.

Kala shakes her head sleepily, then leans forward and gives him a warm kiss. “Tonight was fun.”

He nods in agreement and kisses her again. She grins as he pulls away, and then she rests her head against his chest, hugs him, and yawns as the opening credits play.

“I like Berlin,” she mumbles.

He smiles and kisses the side of her head. “Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> *don't cry, babe


	11. July 16, 8:54 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala faces a long overdue conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for the lovely comments :-)
> 
> Quick note! If there are any Kalagang prompts that you are dying to have written, please leave me a prompt in the comments, and I will do my best to include it in this fic! Since this fic covers a bunch of random Kalagang scenes from the time they rescue Wolfgang until Kala and Wolfie have been together a few years, there are plenty of little domestic/fluffy/angsty/smutty scenes I could include, so just let me know.

Kala wanders around Wolfgang’s apartment, wearing a long black tee-shirt that she stole from his closet. She was left without another option for attire, considering her bag is back at Felix’s shop. She woke up before Wolfgang, who she found asleep on the couch with his head on Felix’s shoulder. Sun’s voice told her to take a picture for future blackmail purposes, but she simply grinned to herself and shook her head, and then went in search of the shirt she’s now wearing.

She looks down at herself, gripping the too-long sleeves in her slender fingers, and then she tilts her head back, yawns, and runs her hands through her hair. She expected the apartment to hold secrets, but it simply feels like coming home. The upended suitcase in his room was an upsetting detail, but otherwise, the apartment is how she -- well, he -- remembers it. She touches everything as if to reconnect -- the neat bookshelf and the former tenant’s abstract art which Wolfgang neglected to take down when he rented the place, the desk with lists and combinations and code words, the clothes in his sparse closet, the small bottle of cologne in the bathroom, the glass door to the shower...in the kitchen, she finds herself smiling often, because this room is the most lived-in, despite his insistence that he doesn’t cook. She can feel an echo of him sitting at the small table, reading, drinking coffee. There may not be pots or pans or food for that matter, but she does find a large, clear jar of coffee beans next to a small grinder and a French press... _Fancy,_ murmurs Nomi, and Will adds, _He’s kind of outclassing us all right now. Wolfgang is outclassing us. This is sad._

Kala grins and brushes them gently out of her mind, and then she squints when she finds a list near the windowsill -- it’s written on a ripped notebook page. It strikes her that she’s never seen Wolfgang’s handwriting before, and she expected it to be clean and legible, she expected him to show the same care to his script as he seems to show to every other aspect of his life, but it’s slanted and messy, the S’s slightly too big, clearly written with too much force and energy.

She smiles softly to herself, picking up the note. She wonders if anyone outside of their Cluster, and perhaps Felix, would be able to read it.

_Paris 17.18, Mo 2.5.17_

_U6, S45, verlassen um ~14.00_

_Gate C_

_Autoschl_ _üssel zu Felix, 1.5_

Kala’s hand shakes slightly. Plans for Paris...when the flight leaves, which trains to take to make it to the airport on time, a reminder to give Felix his car keys the day before... she sniffles, thumbing over the unfamiliar time and date notation, and then a cold thought intrudes-- what would it have been like to find this note if things turned out differently at BPO? Would she have been able to read it without disintegrating?

 _You can’t think about things like that,_ whispers Riley.

Kala nods slowly, about to set the note down and seek out Wolfgang, wanting comfort. But she turns the note over, in case there is more to study, and gasps softly. There’s a small ink sketch of a woman on a balcony -- _me_ , she realizes. She stares at it. It’s imperfect, slightly smudged, done absentmindedly, perhaps while he was on hold with the airline or when he was waiting for his coffee to steep...but it is distinctly and singularly her, and as she looks at it, she can feel how he felt while sketching it. Hopeful, a foreign emotion for him.

She presses her hand to her mouth to keep from crying -- lately, she wonders if a day will pass without crying -- and continues to look at the sketch. She isn’t sure how much time has passed when she hears a creak behind her. It’s Wolfgang, leaning against the door frame, watching her with a delicate smile.

“Not very good, but...”

“I love it,” Kala says, voice soft but fierce. She sets the note down where she found it and crosses the kitchen to pull Wolfgang into a kiss. “I love it.”

“Why are you crying?” he asks, avoiding the compliment, though his smile gives him away.

“The plans for Paris,” she murmurs.

He nods, pulling her closer.

She sniffles, then asks, “What were you waiting for? While you sketched that?”

“Coffee,” he says, and she responds with a bright, knowing smile.

She nods. “Coffee, I thought so. Speaking of...”

He grins, then reaches behind him for the jar of beans. He opens a drawer to pull out a small metal scoop, then unfastens the top of the grinder.

“Fresh ground coffee,” murmurs Kala. “Will thinks you’re classy.”

Will appears in the doorway where Wolfgang had been standing a moment before. He gestures at the coffee. “There’s a coffee tasting bar in Chicago. We should go sometime. It’s _extra_ classy.”

“Are you asking me out?” says Wolfgang, reaching for two cups.

“Yeah,” says Will, adding, “but I’m not here just for that. We liked the idea Kala had last night, about coming to Berlin, meeting Felix, all that.”

“We miss you,” says Riley, also appearing.

Wolfgang turns around and shrugs. “Sure.”

“Please do!” says Kala excitedly. “We miss you too!”

“I mean, you two _have_ had enough alone time,” adds Nomi, appearing and chewing on the end of her glasses with a smirk.

“Four days in Paris and you left the hotel room, what, once?” asks Sun.

Wolfgang shrugs, glancing at Kala. “She’s a better view than Paris.”

Kala’s cheeks turn a dusky shade of pink, so she turns around and begins to measure the coffee into the grinder.

“Was I right?” calls Riley with a suppressed giggle. “You know, about the sex?”

Kala grinds the coffee, drowning out any responses, while Wolfgang hides a smirk. Riley and Will exchange a mischievous glance while Nomi laughs.

“Is this your plan now that you aren’t always taking care of us?” asks Wolfgang. “Embarrass us as much as possible?”

“We will ignore you until you leave!” says Kala.

The four visitors roll their eyes collectively and disappear. Wolfgang puts an arm around Kala and kisses the side of her head.

“I like your shirt,” he mentions.

“Mm, it smells like you, I like that,” she replies, tilting her face up, asking for a real kiss.

He chuckles and kisses her, then pushes her gently towards the table. “I’ll make this.”

“Thank you,” murmurs Kala, pausing before she sits, glancing again at the note by the windowsill. “Wolfgang?”

He looks at her, a scoop of coffee suspended mid-air. “Babe?”

“Can I keep this?” she asks shyly, tapping the note with an index finger.

His lips twitch, pleased she wants to, but he settles for a simple nod and goes back to measuring. Kala smiles fondly, and then goes in search of her purse so she can store the note safely. She finds her purse on the couch, next to Felix’s sleeping form, and she tiptoes with it back into the kitchen. She puts the note in the small diary she keeps in her purse. Then she makes the mistake of looking at her phone.

“Oh no,” she says, brow wrinkled.

Wolfgang glances at her. “Family?”

“Twelve missed calls,” she says in horror. “Five from my parents, five from my sister, one from Rajan, and one from my Aunt. Oh, God, my _Aunt_...”

Wolfgang frowns, shifting a teapot onto the stove. “Do you think they know?”

“No, no, Rajan wouldn’t have told them without asking me.” She pauses, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “I will _kill_ him if he told them without asking me.”

Wolfgang sits down next to her, looking at her phone, and then shrugs. “It’s not going away if you wait.”

Kala sighs, unlocks her phone, and then opens her voicemail.

“Listen with me,” she says to Wolfgang. “I can’t listen alone. Oh my God, what if he told them?” She sighs again and presses play. “Okay.”

The first message is from her Aunt.

_Kala Jalahensini Dandekar--_

“Middle name, bad sign,” observes Wolfgang.

_\--we spoke with your friend in, where did you say you were? London? And she says she hasn’t seen you since University, let alone spoken with you about a visit in London. Where have you been? Your mother is worried sick, and Rajan is being unusually withholding! Call us right now!_

“You told your family you were staying with a friend in London?”

Kala nods. “Rajan said it wasn’t safe to tell them about Paris and Ajay and all the business difficulties...and I thought London made sense, I have friends there from University...I told them she needed help because her mother is ill and...”

Wolfgang frowns, impressed. “Good lie.”

“No, it was _not_ a good lie, it only took them one little phone call to find out.” She rubs her face, deletes the message, and sets her phone aside. “How did I put this off so long?”

Wolfgang squeezes her knee and gets up to finish the coffee.

“It’s inevitable,” he says quietly. “Tell them you and Rajan have been having trouble for a while, you’re getting a divorce, you needed some time away by yourself.”

“And what about you?” asks Kala softly.

Wolfgang shakes his head. “Don’t mention me.”

Kala nods. “They’ll need time to process this and you...” She breathes out, nervous. “You will be a...surprise.”

Wolfgang glances at her as he pours the boiling water over the coffee grounds.

“My mother _might_ faint,” adds Kala as an afterthought.

“Does that run in the family?” murmurs Wolfgang, stirring the coffee, and he feels Kala relax at the joke.

“Okay, paper and pen please, I need a script,” she tells him.

He gestures at the coffee. “Be patient.”

“You don’t need to watch the coffee, Wolfgang,” she tells him.

Wolfgang chuckles, then steps into the other room and comes back with a notepad and a pen. He throws it onto the table for her.

“Rude,” she murmurs.

“Needy,” he replies.

She kicks him, but he catches her foot and holds it captive. She throws her head back, giggling, and tries to wrestle her foot free, but then he tickles her and she screams in laughter. Felix walks into the kitchen wearing a deep, unsure frown, and Wolfgang quickly lets go of Kala, who clears her throat and pulls the notepad towards her.

“Right, okay,” mumbles Felix. “Don’t want to know. Some of that coffee for me?”

Wolfgang nods, pulling down another cup. He and Felix eventually sit at the table near Kala, who is focused on what she is writing. She glances at Wolfgang for reassurance.

“I’m afraid no matter how I explain this my mother is never going to speak to me again,” she murmurs.

“Explaining the divorce?” asks Felix brightly.

Kala nods, hesitant to include Felix on such a private matter, but then she lets out a breath and looks at him. “My family is rather old-fashioned.”

Felix nods in understanding, drinking his coffee and wrinkling his nose. “Fuck, could you make this any stronger?” he asks Wolfgang, adding to Kala, “Speaking of strength, water it down. Just water it the fuck down. You and whatever his name just drifted apart, yeah? You realized you weren’t a good match. Maybe marriage isn’t for everyone. Maybe you need to discover yourself first. You know, all that wishy-washy shit.”

“He’s right,” says a new voice -- Lito, visiting.

Kala and Wolfgang both look intently at their invisible visitor. Felix leans back, spooked, following their gaze.

“Oh is this...the thing?” he asks vaguely. “The thing you can do?”

Kala nods, distracted by Lito, and murmurs, “Right about what?”

“The story you tell,” explains Lito, who is wrapped in a pink bathrobe, sipping an espresso.

“Who is this?” Felix asks Wolfgang.

“Lito,” says Wolfgang shortly, adding, “The fuck are you wearing?”

Lito pulls at the fabric of the robe with a pleased shrug. “I found it in Riley’s bathroom.”

A loud, amused sigh from Riley, Will, and Sun reverberates in their minds.

“Lito! The actor! Good idea!” says Felix, turning to the empty space Kala and Wolfgang are speaking to. “I love your movies, man! Especially _The Mirror Has No Heart_ , that was fucking _deep_ , like...made me think about identity in a whole new way!”

Lito starts to slowly smile, eyes narrowed, and he points at Felix. “Why didn’t you mention your best friend is a fan of my movies?”

Wolfgang shrugs. “Too busy not dying.”

Lito nods, puffing his lips out in agreement. “Fair point.” Then he leans forward excitedly and looks at Kala. “Okay love, listen, your mother isn’t that cold. She won’t stop speaking to you, I promise. But we should be careful how we explain this...”

Kala and Lito work through several versions of her explanation, crossing things out and adding new, softer sentences. Wolfgang watches them in interest, stunned and slightly perplexed by how kind Kala naturally is, once again impressed by Lito’s ability to disguise the truth. After a few minutes, Kala nods with finality and sets her pen aside.

She looks at Wolfgang.

_Want me with you?_

She shakes her head softly, but reaches out to squeeze his hand. Felix watches this unspoken exchange with an intense wrinkle on his brow. Kala takes a bracing drink of coffee, gives Lito a brief hug as she leaves the kitchen, and then finds refuge in Wolfgang’s bedroom. She sits on the bed, crosses her legs like a pretzel, and tilts her head back to take a bigger breath than usual. Then she looks in surprise at Capheus, who is sitting next to her, big shoulders and a warm smile.

“In my experience,” he says, putting a hand on his heart, “when you are telling a person something they do not want to hear, they appreciate it if you are direct. A simple admission that you know they are scared, or disappointed...that goes a very long way. When I was explaining to my mother that I wanted to run for office, I knew how terrified she would be for me. I think it helped not to disguise that, and from what I know of your parents, I think that would help them too...”

Kala nods, reaching to squeeze Capheus’s hand. “Thank you.”

He smiles widely. “Of course, Kala.”

She smiles too, and he vanishes as she reaches for her phone. She calls her father’s restaurant number, in fear that her Auntie Ina will pick up if she calls home.

Sanyam answers instantly. “Kala?”

Kala’s heart twitches painfully at the angst in her father’s voice. “Hi, Dad.”

Sanyam sighs heavily, and Kala can tell from the noise that he’s shifting his pots and pans off of the stove so nothing burns while he talks to her. “Kala...” he mumbles, relieved. “Where are you? We realized this morning that you were not with Saanvi in London and...well, if you ever have children, you will understand what this kind of panic is like.”

“I’m so sorry,” says Kala softly. “I’m safe and everything is fine.”

“We called Rajan several times, but he was very short with us on the phone,” says Sanyam carefully.

Kala nods. “Yes, I imagine he was.” She sniffles and stares out the window, wondering which worries are consuming each passerby as they walk to work and school. The sky threatens rain, and the light in the narrow street shifts as the clouds move over the sun. “Is Mom there? I need to talk to both of you.”

“Are you really safe?” checks Sanyam.

“I am safe,” says Kala. “I just haven’t been entirely honest.”

“Okay, yes, your mother is upstairs,” says Sanyam. “Would you like me to get her?”

“Yes, please,” says Kala, pressing her fingertips nervously into the bed.

She waits, listening to the bustle and music of the restaurant as her father walks through it to find Priya, who Kala presumes is having her afternoon cup of chai while counting the morning’s profit.

“Okay, Kala, we are both here,” says Sanyam. “Your sister is here too, she was helping us this morning with new tablecloths.”

“Okay,” whispers Kala, tears threatening to break over her cheeks. “I, um...” She looks hard at her note, and the words suddenly seem inadequate. “I haven’t been in London to see my friend. I just...needed time. Alone, time to think, because...Rajan and I will be getting a divorce.”

Daya gasps. “ _What_? Oh my God, Kala! What happened? What did he do?”

“No, no, Rajan did not do anything wrong, and I know this must be hard for you all to understand and I’m sure this feels very sudden...but I have put a great deal of thought into this, as has Rajan, and we agreed that this is the right thing to do. The only right thing to do.”

Priya sighs gently. “What happened? I know you mentioned that you...were still getting used to each other, still finding out things about one another...but that is part of every marriage, Kala.”

“Yes,” agrees Kala. “But we do not...we do not love each other. We care about each other but we never...we never loved each other.”

“Rajan loved you,” says Priya, frustrated.

“No, Mom, he...he loved the idea of me, the idea of us,” replies Kala. “He is a good man but he never loved me, and he certainly never understood me.”

“That could come with time,” says Priya. “Not every marriage begins with that.”

“Well, I think every marriage should,” murmurs Kala.

There’s a moment of thoughtful silence on the other end, and then Daya whispers, “I can’t believe this.”

“Dad?” asks Kala, wanting his response.

“Only you know what is right,” says Sanyam slowly. “And if it is true that you and Rajan both put much thought into this, then no one else can tell you that you are wrong.”

Kala breathes out in relief, crying openly now.

“Sanyam, she won’t be able to get married again, what will she do now?” asks Priya worriedly.

“Why not?” replies Sanyam kindly. “Why won’t she be able to get married again, Priya? I like to think most of us have moved past that kind of thinking.”

Priya sighs loudly. “Oh, Kala. Are you very sure about this? Rajan is a nice man, he can take care of you for your whole life.”

“I don’t want to stay with someone for those reasons, Mom,” says Kala, relieved that her voice doesn’t shake.

“If you are expecting to be...I don’t know, Kala...swept off of your feet by someone, it isn't so easy. Maybe you find someone who you love more than you loved Rajan, but that is no guarantee and you have _everything_ right now."

“I would rather take my chances,” says Kala quietly. “Because everything does not mean anything to me if I don’t love the man I’m with. Some things are more important than being sure of my future.”

“Everyone is going to think something terrible happened!” says Daya. “Or that you can’t have children! Or that you’re a lesbian!”

Kala sighs sharply. “Yes, Daya, thank you for your input.”

Sanyam clears his throat. “Priya, our daughter is very educated, she will be fine, and Daya, as for what the neighbors say, let them talk. They don’t deserve our response.”

“Oh, Kala,” murmurs Daya. “You know I love you and I will never abandon you, but Rajan is handsome and wealthy and he adores you! It doesn’t get better than that!”

“Daya, we are very different people,” says Kala shortly.

“That beautiful apartment...” Daya goes on mournfully.

“I will find another apartment,” replies Kala.

“In London?” asks Priya.

“Um, Berlin, I think,” says Kala, referring to her note again. “There are excellent laboratory jobs here and it’s a very safe place for a single woman, a very low crime rate and well, it’s quite beautiful here, and--”

“You’re in Berlin, then, not London?” asks Daya.

“Yes, Berlin,” says Kala.

“ _Alone?_ ”

“As I said, it is quite safe,” replies Kala. “And I think I already found a nice apartment...”

“Oh my goodness, so...you...you aren’t coming back to Mumbai?” asks Priya faintly. “What about your things?”

“Rajan said he would ship my things, but yes Mom, I will come back soon to see you all.”

“What is soon?” asks Priya.

“Maybe a couple of months, I’m sorry, but I need...” Kala breathes out and sniffles. “I need time.”

“Oh, Kala, don’t cry,” says Daya worriedly. “We didn’t mean to make you cry. Take your time, you can always stay with me and Vihaan*.”

Kala sniffles into her hand and runs a hand through her hair. Then she lies back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and is reminded of the last time she was in this bed. _If I had simply never married him...if I admitted I wanted Wolfgang...if I thought about myself just once..._

“I’m very sorry,” she murmurs, voice tight. “I -- I never should have married Rajan. I knew better, and now I have put you all through this pain when I could have avoided it. I was very confused.”

“You should be proud that you had the wisdom to recognize you weren’t happy and the courage to change,” says Sanyam quietly. “As a very clever woman once told me...hearts are complicated things.”

Kala laughs and cries at once. “Thank you, Dad.”

Priya lets out a final sigh. “Well, Kala, I cannot say this isn’t a surprise but...you must do what you think is right.”

“Thank you for letting me explain,” murmurs Kala.

“It is lucky your Aunt is out shopping,” says Priya, amusement entering her voice for the first time. “She won’t take this so easily.”

“Yes, I know,” agrees Kala. “Please don’t let her pester Rajan.”

“Oh, yes, we will keep Ina far, far away from Rajan,” says Sanyam seriously.

Kala giggles. “Thank you. I’m afraid she might terrorize him.”

“I have to get back to my kitchen,” says Sanyam, groaning as he gets to his feet. “But please, Kala, call whenever you need.”

“Of course,” says Kala. “I love you all.”

“We love you,” they chorus.

Kala hangs up and throws her phone aside on the pillows. She lies on the bed for a moment, glossy curls spread out on the familiar sheets, fingernails digging into the cuffs of her borrowed shirt, brown eyes bright and wet as they take in the details of the rough ceiling above. She finds herself smiling softly after a moment, finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cluster in Berlin is next!


	12. July 18, 2:03 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cluster arrives in Berlin. Kala and Wolfgang slip away for a conversation.

Kala, Wolfgang, and Felix sit in an outdoor cafe, waiting for the Cluster to arrive from the airport. Kala drinks a small cup of chai and secretly plays with Wolfgang’s fingers under the table. Felix sips a beer and taps his foot anxiously, looking around for any sign of Wolfgang’s friends. Wolfgang, also having an afternoon beer, sinks into the comfort of knowing that he’s safe in Berlin. He hasn’t felt safe here in months, years maybe, and it’s intoxicating to sit in a public cafe without looking over his shoulder. Kala notices that he laughs more freely now, and last night at least, he slept soundly.

Though Kala was hesitant to leave Paris, she’s thankful now to be in Berlin, because Wolfgang seems to have needed the reconnection. It’s been three days since they arrived in Berlin -- time which Kala and Wolfgang spent sleeping in, watching cheesy movies, fooling around on the couch, and talking late into the night while lying in bed next to each other, often falling asleep holding hands. This afternoon was the earliest the rest of the Cluster could make it to Berlin, having all left Iceland and dispersed. Lito spent the time in Los Angeles, preparing for Iberian Dreams, Riley and Will returned to Chicago, so Will could piece his police career back together, Nomi went to San Francisco to begin wedding preparations, Sun, finally cleared of the crimes her brother committed, returned to Seoul and set up a cautious dinner with Detective Mun (“Dinner,” she insisted to the Cluster. “Not a date.”), and Capheus spent his time in Nairobi with his mother and Zakia, finally given a chance to explain everything to them.

“They know we’re at _this_ cafe, right?” Felix asks.

“I’m sure they’re nearly here,” Kala says reassuringly.

Felix sets his twitchy hands on the table. “This is fucking weird, okay? Wolfie falling for a married girl and almost dying over it? I can wrap my mind around that. But _friends_ ? He can barely keep up _our_ friendship and we fucking grew up together and you know, we have the shared trauma, the real shit, but other friends? Can’t see it.”

“They’re more like family,” says Wolfgang, leaning his head back on the chair, shutting his eyes, drinking in the sunshine.

Kala glances at him, happy to see him so at ease.

“He’s right,” agrees Kala. “They’re family. And as for shared trauma...”

Wolfgang’s mouth twitches in amusement and he gives Kala’s fingers a squeeze under the table.

Felix sighs and reaches for his beer. “Still weird.” He takes a big drink, then opens up his notebook where he’s written down everyone’s names and relationships and goes over it a final time. “Wait, who’s Nomi dating again? I just drew arrows, should have written this shit down...”

“Amanita,” says Kala. “She isn’t a Sensate. And she’s her fiancée, not just her girlfriend.”

Felix crosses something out. “Fiancée. Shit, cool, and who’s Dani again?”

“Lito and Hernando’s best friend,” says Kala, stirring her chai.

“Don’t scare her away by staring,” warns Wolfgang, sipping his beer with a smirk.

“Why would I stare?” asks Felix.

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow and Kala shakes her head, grinning softly.

“Oh, she’s cute,” guesses Felix, tapping his head knowingly for effect, then glugging his beer. “Well, you can trust me, I won’t brag about saving damsels, okay?”

“Or stare at her ass,” adds Wolfgang.

Felix extends his pinkie finger, latches it around Wolfgang’s pinkie, and shakes. Wolfgang snorts.

“No ass-staring,” says Felix seriously.

“That goes for you too,” murmurs Kala, giving Wolfgang a playful nudge under the table, then getting up to order another chai.

Wolfgang shamelessly stares at her as she walks away and Felix gestures wildly at him.

“The fuck is wrong with you? We _just_ made a pledge!”

Wolfgang takes a sip of his beer, then shakes his head softly. “Fuck, man.”

Felix’s false outrage disappears, replaced at once by a toothy grin.

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m not going to answer the question you’re about to ask--”

Felix ignores him. “How’s the sex?”

“Felix--”

“Wolfie, c’mon! This is the girl you’re spending the rest of your life with, I’m your best friend, at least give me an _idea_. She’s freaking hot, it’s got to be good, right?”

Wolfgang stubbornly holds Felix’s gaze. “I love her, I’m going to respect her privacy.”

“You love her and you’re going to respect her privacy?” echoes Felix, squinting. “Who _are_ you now?”

“A better person,” says Wolfgang, intentionally sanctimonious.

Felix snorts. Wolfgang takes another drink of beer, smiling, then looks up at Felix.

“I’d tell you,” he says honestly, “but I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not like any sex I’ve ever had, it’s...” He trails off, smiling to himself, and shrugs. “It’s emotional.”

Felix stares at Wolfgang over the rim of his beer glass, astounded. “Are you _blushing_?”

Wolfgang looks down, laughing at himself, and shyly rubs the back of his head. Felix, on the brink of an existential crisis, drinks more beer.

“I love her, I love being with her,” explains Wolfgang simply.

“Shit,” murmurs Felix. “This is a new fucking era, man. You’re sitting in front of me, talking about putting your P in some V, and you’re all roses and rainbows.”

Wolfgang makes a face. “Where do you come up with this shit, Felix?”

Felix grins and shakes his head. “No idea.” He finishes his beer, then gestures at Wolfgang with his empty glass. “No more weekends at the club, no new girls, you sure you’re okay with that, Wolfie?”

“I just want her,” says Wolfgang.

Kala returns to the table, kissing Wolfgang gently on the cheek as she slides into her seat.

“Are you talking about me?” Kala asks.

“Yes,” answers Felix, adding as he points at Wolfgang, “this man is a fucking softie, he’d give you the fucking stars if you asked him, and I will be drinking heavily tonight because” --Felix imitates an explosion with his hands-- “my mind is blown.”

Kala glances at Wolfgang, smiling, and he lifts her chin and kisses her quickly.

“Ugh,” says Felix loudly, getting to his feet and taking Wolfgang’s empty beer glass. “This is some schmaltzy bullshit. I’m getting more beer.”

Kala giggles softly, then sighs against Wolfgang’s lips when he tilts his head and kisses her deeply. She shifts closer under the table, dragging her fingertips along his sides. He squeezes her thigh gently and she murmurs in approval, but they sense Felix’s return so they pull away and settle for gently touching their noses together.

“Uh, hello?” says Felix, setting the beer down hard.

They jump and look at him. Kala smiles apologetically, Wolfgang grins unapologetically, and Felix shakes his head, defeated. He slides Wolfgang’s beer to him, this time in a bottle, then pats the table.

“Let’s take a walk when they get here, yeah?” says Felix. “Show them the sights?”

“They’ll love that,” agrees Kala, adding to Wolfgang, “Did any of the others visit you very often here?”

“Mostly you,” he tells her. “Sometimes Sun, Will. But they haven’t seen much of the city.”

“Except Riley,” points out Kala. “She did shows here, remember?”

“Wait, Riley Blue the _DJ_ ? _That_ Riley Blue?” asks Felix. “Do you have any other famous Cluster-mates I should know about?”

Kala and Wolfgang look at each other, amused, and then Kala spots Lito, Hernando, and Dani at the other side of the restaurant and gasps excitedly. She thrusts her hand in the air and waves, and Lito grins, presses a giddy kiss to Hernando’s temple, and pulls both Hernando and Dani along with him at a fast pace. All of them are laughing and breathless as they reach the table. Lito is sporting a crisp blue shirt, accented with a peach and scarlet necktie, and Dani is just as fashionable in a coral-colored sundress. Hernando, usually demure, is surprisingly wearing a jersey for The Mexico National Football team. Kala, despite having never met the man in person, giggles at how casual he is and how easily he’s smiling -- everyone, she assumes, is in a blissful state of relief after enduring the terror of BPO.

“Oh my God, you must be Kala!” says Dani with an enthusiastic squeal. “Oh, you’re so beautiful, I need a hug!” She pulls Kala out of her seat and hugs her tightly, rocking back and forth, making her laugh. Then she releases her and looks at Wolfgang. “And you! You’re the one who fought Joaquin, ay, I thought I was going to die that day, I thought Lito was going to die!” She sighs dramatically, pulling him to his feet too, and hugs him. He looks in surprise at Lito, who grins. When Dani releases him, she clicks her tongue and winks at Lito. “You were right, he _is_ a cutie. I would eat him up, _but_ ,” she looks at Kala, “I won’t, I promise.” Then she looks at Felix, back at Wolfgang, and says in English, “And you’re Felix.”

“Yes, uh, yes, I’m Felix. Very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” says Dani with a laugh. She turns to Hernando and nudges him towards Kala and Wolfgang. “Introduce yourself, Nando, don’t be shy.”

Hernando shakes both of their hands, smiling politely. “You are as lovely as Lito described, I can’t wait to know you both better.” He looks at Wolfgang. “I may not be able to feel everything like my Lito can, but thank goodness you are okay. The news that you had been captured was devastating.”

Wolfgang nods seriously. “Thank you.”

“I missed you both so much,” says Lito, beaming and hugging Kala and Wolfgang at once. “You look better!” he adds to Wolfgang. “Your color is better!” He grins exuberantly. “Paris was good for you. Making love is the _best_ medicine, don’t you think?”

Kala blushes and crosses her arms. “Lito!”

“Lito can be very brazen,” says Hernando, and then he frowns and goes on, “but I’m sure you know that. It’s so fascinating, you know him as well as I do.”

“No one knows me as well as you do, my love,” says Lito.

“Ay, agreed,” laughs Dani, and then she eyes the beers on the table. “Do margaritas exist in Germany?”

“At the bar,” says Wolfgang, pointing at it.

Dani smiles in thanks, then looks at Lito and Hernando. “And for you two gentlemen...strawberry margarita and a glass of red wine, yes?” They nod, and then she frowns at Kala’s chai. “Would you like something more fun?” Then she gasps. “Oh, wait, are you pregnant? No, you’re not pregnant, that would be _insane_ this early in your relationship, especially considering you’re still _technically_ married.” She laughs. “Oh, can you _imagine_? That man would have been in for a surprise if you had a baby and oops, bright blue eyes!” She sighs, relishing the drama of this imaginary scenario, then gasps and goes on, “I’m talking too much, yes? I always do. Okay, wine, strawberry margs, and Kala?”

Kala laughs and shakes her head. “A beer is fine, thank you.”

“He’s turning you German, isn’t he?” she asks. “Just wait, you’ll be making schnitzel and sauerkraut before long--”

“Dani,” says Hernando.

“Right, drinks, I’m just so excited to finally meet you all!”

She hurries away towards the bar. Hernando and Lito laugh and look at each other, and then take seats at the table.

“We apologize, she is very exuberant,” says Lito. “But she is our family, which makes her your family.”

“You _aren’t_ pregnant, right?” Wolfgang asks Kala.

She smiles pleasantly. “No, and you would know, because you would be dead. I would have killed you.”

He raises his eyebrows dramatically and reaches for his beer. “Noted.”

Kala laughs and kisses the side of his head, and then Wolfgang looks at Felix.

“Felix, aren’t you going to say hello to Lito?”

Felix turns white and looks unsurely at Lito, who is overwhelming in person -- bronze skin, big muscles, and a smile that could lead a nation.

“Oh my God, he has a crush,” Kala murmurs to Wolfgang. “Oh, he has a _crush_.”

Lito grins invitingly at Felix, then reaches out to shake his hand. “Please, speak German if you like, or English, I can understand you.”

Felix clears his throat. “Mr. Rodriguez, I love your films.”

“Don’t be shy, Felix,” says Wolfgang.

Felix turns a soft shade of pink, then bursts out, “ _Hermanos De Armas,_ fucking masterpiece, I’ve watched that seven fucking times, man, and I keep going back to it, that scene where one of the twins confesses everything he’s been hiding?” Felix shakes his head in amazement. “Fucking brilliant delivery.”

Lito’s eyes crinkle, completely charmed, and he grins at Felix. “Thank you, that means the world.” He looks at Wolfgang. “I like this man.”

“And in _Dejé Mi Corazón en Mazatlán_ , where you propose to that lady on the beach and she rejects you because of her father’s cartel connections...broke my heart, man, and then you _die_ and she’s just changed her mind and she comes back to find your body? Fuck, man. That was _real_.”

“He cries when he watches that movie,” adds Wolfgang.

Felix shoves Wolfgang hard. “I don’t _cry_.”

Wolfgang ruffles Felix’s hair.

Felix rolls his eyes and goes on, “It is a _privilege_ to watch your films, Mr. Rodriguez.”

Lito sniffles, then reaches out and squeezes Felix’s shoulder. “You are officially my number one fan.”

“Fuck, yeah!” Then Felix’s eyes widen hopefully. “Hey, could we...” He shakes his head. “Nah.”

“What?” asks Lito, just as Dani returns, balancing four drinks. He accepts his glass of wine and smiles at her. “Dani, listen, we were just discussing your favorite movie of mine.”

Dani gasps. “ _Dejé Mi Corazón en Mazatlán!_ Ay, I would have _killed_ to star in that with you, it’s such a beautiful film!”

“Felix loves it too,” says Lito. “Now go on, what were you saying?”

Felix shrugs sheepishly. “I’d love to get a chance to watch a few of your movies with you, you know, ask questions...”

Lito slams the table, grinning. “Yes! Yes, of course, we’ll make a night of it!”

“Ooh yes, I’m in!” agrees Dani. “And we’ll force everyone else to sit through it.”

Kala, Wolfgang, and Hernando all smile at each other as the others continue to chat about Lito’s films. Hernando and Wolfgang begin their own conversation about Russian literature and football, and Kala sits back with an affectionate roll of her eyes and sips her beer. After a few minutes, Riley and Will appear at the front of the cafe, and Kala waves them over.

Riley and Will both grin and hurry to the table, pulling their Cluster-mates into intense hugs and laughing. Riley hugs Felix and Daniela, Will grabs some beers from the bar, and then he and Riley settle at the table. Will is freshly shaven, a permanent smile on his face, and Riley has added an additional blue streak to her hair.

“You look so good,” Kala says warmly. “ _Healthy_.”

Will chuckles. “No more Blockers.”

“Here here,” murmurs Riley, kissing his cheek fondly.

“And,” says Will, grinning hugely and reaching into his pocket to pull out a shiny, new police badge, “I got reinstated.”

His Cluster-mates erupt in cheers, all side-hugging him, patting his back, and clinking their drinks.

“Yeah, Diego’s pretty psyched,” he says with a laugh.

Kala grins. “We have to celebrate.” She bites her bottom lip, looking at Felix and Wolfgang. “I think these two could show us all a good time...”

Wolfgang chuckles and gestures at his cane. “I don’t think I can go clubbing.”

“Well, you and I can sit at the bar,” murmurs Kala. “And go home early...”

Riley wrinkles her nose, delighted, and starts a chorus of _oohs_ that leave both Kala and Wolfgang blushing and shaking their heads.

“There’s a great place by Wolfie’s apartment,” says Felix.

“Speaking of, where are we staying?” asks Riley.

“All at my place, we can all share one bed, right?” jokes Wolfgang.

“We have before,” says Will with a goody-goody smirk.

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows and takes a long drink of beer. “That was a hot tub, Will. Very different.”

Will grins softly. “Pretty specific memory. You think about that a lot?”

Felix narrows his eyes, then looks at Kala for guidance, who raises her glass as if to say “here’s to surprises!” Before he can pursue anything further, however, Nomi and Amanita appear in the cafe, waving brightly and hoisting colorful packages over their heads. Nomi is wearing an old favorite Nancy Drew tee-shirt of Amanita’s, and Amanita is in a characteristic strappy dress and huge wedge sandals. They’re both beaming, and Nomi is freckly from sunbathing on their San Francisco rooftop with Neets.

“We brought gifts!” sing-songs Amanita.

She’s been acquainted with the Cluster before, having come with Nomi to Italy when they brought down BPO, so she hugs each of them in turn and only introduces herself to Dani, Hernando, and Felix.

“Nice fucking ring!” says Felix, impressed.

Neets beams and kisses Nomi quickly. “I think so too.”

Nomi grins and shows him hers as well. “I think we both picked well.”

He laughs. “Shit, yeah, and I would know. Kind of a connoisseur of diamonds here.”

“Yes, we hear you almost died because of diamonds,” teases Nomi softly.

Felix gives them one of his characteristic, overlarge grins. “Sure did.”

Nomi and Amanita laugh together, and then Amanita clinks a long turquoise nail against one of the gift packages.

“When are the others getting here?” she asks. “Because we have some fancy booze to break into with you all. We thought we could do the German tradition of walking around the town and drinking.”

“Mm, that’s a bit of a stereotype,” says Felix, drinking his beer.

“Then we start the tradition _today_ ,” says Amanita with a feisty grin.

Felix grins back, then leans forward, lowers his voice conspiratorially, and says, “So you’re gay.”

Nomi and Neets exchange a concerned expression.

“...yes,” murmurs Nomi.

“So you can tell me what _that_ is about,” he replies, gesturing at Will and Wolfgang -- Will is now examining an old gash on Wolfgang’s cheek, and Wolfgang is laughing and pushing him away halfheartedly.  

“Oh honey, you don’t need to be a lesbian to know what’s going on there,” says Amanita, and Nomi shuts her eyes and laughs.

“Oh my God, Neets, don’t tease him.”

“I’ve known that man for twenty years,” says Felix in disbelief. “What the fuck, these last few days...” He turns to Amanita. “How did you react? You know, to all the Sensate shit?”

Amanita smiles softly, looking at her fiancee, and starts to explain. Meanwhile, Will and Wolfgang catch up about Chicago and police business, and Kala and Riley, who like to touch when they talk, take hands and speak softly about leaving Iceland, their plans to move in with the men they love, Kala’s future in Paris or Berlin. Lito, Dani, and Hernando all sip their drinks and laugh, discussing plans for tonight. After several more minutes, Sun, Capheus, and Zakia arrive. Having traveled to Frankfurt from Seoul and Nairobi, they met up and took the train the rest of the way.

“I have had no one to talk to,” says Sun in greeting, eyeing Capheus and Zakia, who are holding hands and smiling brightly.

Everyone laughs and pulls the new arrivals into hugs, before they too sit at the table, which is now full. Capheus, in a casual suit, and Zakia, in a soft pink dress and flaunting dark red lips, look the part of the powerful couple that their Cluster is sure they’ll become one day.

Sun, meanwhile, grins around her straw as she sips a hard lemonade and sits cross-legged, comfortable in thin sweats and a tee-shirt with a cartoon jindo on the front.

Kala bites her lip, smirking, and murmurs, “Who got you that shirt?”

Sun blushes and continues to sip her lemonade. Then she says, “Mun.”

“Oh my God,” say Lito and Kala in unison, leaning forward and each taking one of her hands.

She shakes her head, black hair waving gently around her face. “Oh, don’t, don’t.”

“Just out of the blue?” asks Lito.

“We...we were playing with Min-Jee,” -- her dog, who’s named for wisdom and grace -- “and having a nice time and the next day he got me this.” She pauses, hates herself for grinning, and goes on, “He even wrapped it.”

“Oh my God, so you two are...?” Kala trails off.

Sun shrugs, pleased. “We’ve been...spending a lot of time together.”

“No, no, that’s vague,” says Lito, pressing.

Sun blushes deeper. “We...we may have gone home together after dinner the other night, but we just had a drink and...” She laughs at herself. “Snuggled?”

Kala and Lito both let out high-pitched squeaks and furiously nudge each other under the table.

“I trust him because my dog trusts him,” says Sun with a small smile.

“Good reason,” says Lito earnestly.

Everyone finishes up their drinks, and then they open the gifts Amanita and Nomi brought -- one is a big bottle of blueberry pancake flavored vodka, which Wolfgang recoils at the sight of, prompting Kala to tease him about being a boring purist, and a bottle of white chocolate whiskey. Amanita pulls out two big thermoses and surreptitiously pours the liquors into each one. Will sighs hugely about the illegal act they’re all about to take part in, and then the group makes their way slowly out of the cafe and into the sunshine. The couples all take hands, leaving Dani, Sun, and Felix, who roll their eyes at each other before Dani attaches herself to Lito and Hernando.

“You should have brought Detective Mun,” says Capheus wisely.

“It is far too early to be vacationing together,” replies Sun, praying that a blush hasn’t touched her cheeks.

Everyone chuckles to themselves at her response, and then they start down a small street lined with butter-yellow apartments and slender trees and end up after a moment in a forested park featuring a small church and a playground. It is an unseasonably warm day and a soft Chinook wind shakes the parched leaves of the trees. Kala leans her head back in the sun, relieved by the heat. Despite it being Summer, she’s found herself seeking warmth since she arrived in Berlin -- she wonders how Wolfgang survived twenty-nine years in such a chilly place. Today is the first day that feels truly hot, and she dreams briefly of sunbathing. Wolfgang senses the thought and glances at her with a faint smirk, and she giggles and gently pushes him.

Lito smiles at them, then nudges Wolfgang.

“We never had the chance to tell you two how relieved we are that you’re finally together,” he says warmly, adding with a chuckle, “it was an agonizing wait.”

“Imagine how we feel if _you_ found it agonizing,” jokes Kala.

“What do you expect when you combine a woman who prioritizes everyone else’s needs over her own with a man who doesn’t think he deserves anything good in life,” says Sun.

“Wow, right for the jugular with the psychoanalysis there, Sun,” says Will, laughing.

Sun shrugs and takes a healthy sip of vodka. “You all know I’m right.”

Will grins. “You two were hopeless. Riles and I didn’t hesitate.”

“Oh, okay,” says Kala, saucy. “Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that Riley was single and you weren’t a...a stubborn criminal with anger issues.”

“Wow, babe,” says Wolfgang and she grins, unabashed.

“Okay, you have a point,” Will tells Kala, taking the whiskey from Lito, glancing around, and sipping it carefully.

“It can be hard,” says Nomi softly, sending a gentle glance towards Amanita, “knowing that you’re meant to be together in a dangerous world -- a world which isn’t always kind to what you know and who you are. But, if you wake up every day and still feel unbelievably thankful for the person beside you...well, the world can’t threaten that.”

Kala sniffles and smiles gratefully at Nomi.

“All I know,” Lito says to Wolfgang, “is that this one here,” he rubs Kala’s shoulder and she smiles, “didn’t sleep for days on end before we found you, we could barely convince her to eat. A person can be alive, yet not alive.” He shakes his head, grinning in relief. “Let me tell you, to see her smile again? It is the best feeling.”

“Truly,” agrees Riley, beaming at Kala.

“We knew she would never be the same if we were too late,” says Sun quietly.

“I have never seen love more pure,” adds Capheus, nodding.

By this time, Kala has dissolved into tears, and she reaches out to touch as many of her Cluster-mates as she can. Wolfgang puts an arm around her waist and nestles his face gently into her hair. This gesture overwhelms her and she suddenly cries into her hands.

“Oh, Kala, sweetheart,” says Riley, quickly pulling her into a hug.

“Hey, Kala, it’s alright,” says Will, also hugging her, and soon the whole Cluster has surrounded her to give her comfort.

“I’m s-sorry,” she says, half-laughing. “It still feels s-so strange to be _safe_.” She wipes her eyes and looks apologetically at Hernando, Dani, and Felix, who are less likely to understand the intensity of her emotions. “I’m very sorry.”

They all shake their heads, smiling comfortingly at her. She continues to sniffle and then turns so she can wrap her arms around Wolfgang. He holds her tightly and rubs her back.

“I remember what it’s like,” says Will with a laugh. “I couldn’t let go of Riley for weeks.”

Riley giggles. “He was like Velcro.”

Wolfgang smiles and pats Kala’s side. “You should see how she sleeps.”

Riley grins. “This one too,” she says, looking at Will. “Like a baby monkey, you know, the little ones that cling to their mothers?”

Will laughs and nods. Wolfgang smiles, then glances down and nudges Kala. She looks up, eyes still sparkling, but then she smiles.

“I think this calls for some ice cream,” says Nomi brightly.

“I agree,” says Zakia with a warm smile. “Are you alright, Kala?”

Kala nods, wiping her eyes, and the group starts again down the sidewalk. Kala holds hands with Wolfgang, pressing close as they walk, and he thumbs soothingly over her knuckles.

“Nearest ice cream place is over here,” says Felix, gesturing and adding, “hey, who has the alcohol? I think Kala could use a bit.”

Kala laughs and accepts one of the bottles from Dani. She grimaces after taking a drink, then puffs her lips out, impressed. “This _does_ taste like blueberry pancakes.”

“Hey, shit, Wolfie!” says Felix. “You know what you should do now that you’re, like, legit? Run a fancy bar with weird flavors and shit.”

“Yeah, Wolfgang,” says Will. “You don’t have to be a criminal anymore. Just a thought.”

Wolfgang smiles softly. They arrive at the ice cream shop and all flood in -- the girls behind the counter exchange a world-weary look and pick up their ice cream scoops -- and they all gather around the freezer.

“Oh my God, they have butterscotch,” says Kala happily. “I would always get that as a girl...”

Dani makes a face. “Ew, peppermint, am I right?”

“So right, like fucking brushing your teeth, ice cream’s supposed to be the opposite of that,” agrees Felix.

“I like peppermint,” argues Riley. “It’s very light on the tongue.”

Eventually, having tried a variety of flavors and teased each other, they all walk out of the parlor with big scoops, grinning.

Dani, licking some cookies and cream off her lips, puts her hand out and says in an authoritative tone, “You know what? Forget a bar. He should make ice cream.”

“Wolfie?” laughs Felix. “He can barely make pasta.”

“More than Will knows how to do,” says Wolfgang and everyone laughs.

“Ooh, everyone, career counseling!” says Amanita, throwing back some whiskey. “Okay. Listen up. We each get an opportunity to pick his new career.”

“I don’t think being a thief is a _career_ ,” murmurs Felix.

“Gather round,” orders Amanita, dancing in front of the group and urging them towards a shady spot under a nearby tree.

Nomi rolls her eyes at her fiancee, then plunks down on the grass and pats the space next to her. Everyone else sits down too, and then Amanita rubs her hands together.

“Okay, we’re finding what you’ll do next instead of -- what was it that you did? Stole from rich people? I could get behind that, actually, maybe you could be the modern-day Robin Hood--”

“Don’t encourage him, oh my God,” says Kala.

“Is this necessary?” asks Wolfgang.

“Yes, because we all give excellent advice,” replies Capheus.

Wolfgang swears quietly, leaning back against the tree and putting an arm tightly around Kala. “You’re really going to make me sit through career counseling?”

Kala grins and kisses him softly, then steals his ice cream to try it. He pinches her thigh and she shoves him, and they tussle over the ice cream for a moment.

“You fucking cuties,” says Nomi, shaking her head. “My vote...you can keep picking locks...but for good reasons. Like me, with my hacking.”

“Do any of you have suggestions that aren’t dangerous?” asks Kala, licking a drip of cream off of her little finger.

Lito sits forward excitedly. “No. My suggestion? Bodyguard.”

“Yes, I could see that,” says Hernando, nodding.

Will pops a cherry into his mouth from the top of his cone. “You’d actually make a decent cop.”

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow. “I would rather die.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Will, laughing.

“You could go to school,” suggests Capheus. “And do anything you want after that.”

“Nah, you should have seen how high school went,” says Felix, waving the idea off. “He’s smart, he always got all that math and grammar shit, but he never fucking applied himself. Just got in fights and got all the girls in trouble, always convinced them to split a cigarette with him under the bleachers and make out.”

Kala smiles and sets her chin on Wolfgang’s shoulder. “Yes, well, that would be hard for them to resist.”

“Yeah, he was a cutie,” agrees Felix, shaking his head.

“I was,” says Wolfgang, sipping some whiskey, and everyone groans. “But those weren’t cigarettes, I think the girls wanted the pot more than me.”

Will shakes his head. “Why am I surprised?”

“Don’t be so self-righteous,” says Wolfgang. “I could have convinced you, too.”

Will crunches the last part of his ice cream cone and nods. “You’re completely correct.”

Kala laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t steal my boyfriend, Will, I like him a lot.”

Wolfgang snorts, licking his fingers, and she grins, laying back in the grass and searching the sky through the leaves. Wolfgang follows, and soon the whole group is gazing at the sky.

“Hey, Wolfie, you want to fill me in?” asks Felix, slightly drunk.

“On what?” asks Wolfgang.

“Does being a Sensate change parts of your...what the fuck do you call it, identity, orientation?”

Nomi grins. “Oh no. We have to give Felix the _talk_.”

“The _talk_ ,” laughs Amanita. “I was...surprised when you told me about this part, but it only makes sense. If you absorb each other’s skills and abilities it only makes sense that there’s a bit of sexy crossover.”

“See, it never surprised me,” murmurs Riley. “Because I was already so comfortable with any gender, you know?”

“Exactly, yeah,” agrees Will.

“Aw!” says Dani happily. “Ay, I love how open-minded you all are!” She laughs softly. “I remember when Lito described it to us, I was just _jealous_. How did he put it, Hernando?”

Hernando chuckles. “Let’s see...I believe he said...it is like several, simultaneous orgasms.”

Lito grins and laughs. “That is what I said!”

“I think it’s very interesting,” says Zakia, turning on her side to look at Capheus, who covers his face and laughs. “Amanita is right, it only makes sense, you all share the most intense sensations and emotions.”

Felix, frowning, finally says, “Huh.” Then he shakes his head and shrugs. “Shit. Cool. So I’m guessing with visiting...it’s not always...” He grins. “Uh, not always G-rated, huh? The _fuck_. You can have sex with strangers across the world?”

“Trippy, right?” murmurs Nomi.

Sun laughs. “I was surprised how easily we all went with it.”

“Not _all_ of us,” says Kala, adding with a tipsy laugh, “Wolfgang is intense enough for me, thank you very much.”

Everyone laughs, and then Felix asks, “But how does that work? You just...show up?”

Nomi shakes her head. “No, usually a few of us are already _having_ sex, you know, with our partners or random girls from the club who we use to fill our empty souls--”

“Fuck off,” says Wolfgang affectionately.

“--and then the feelings just kind of...combine,” she goes on. “You know how, if you throw a penny in a fountain, the waves all build up the farther they get and they finally all come together?” She snorts. “Pun intended.”

Amanita grins. “Noms is _crazy_ when she gets like that.” 

Felix frowns. “Yeah. I think I’m jealous, too.”

“Right?” says Dani. “Thank you!”

“Oh, this is fascinating,” Zakia says after a moment. “I want to study you all, of course in a kind way, not a cold scientific one. Perhaps I could write a book for you all, share your experiences...”

Capheus chuckles. “I think you should use our experiences to write a wonderful movie series.”

She smiles. “I like that.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, tipsy and toasty in the sun, basking in the intense warmth of interconnection. The sun sinks lower in the sky, and Kala snuggles closer to Wolfgang, resting her head on his chest and playing softly with his fingers.

“Dinner,” says Lito after a moment. “Hernando and I will cook you all dinner, yes?”

“Divide and conquer,” adds Hernando. “We can go to the greengrocers, two of you can go to the market, someone can pick up wine as if we need any more to drink, and assuming Wolfgang does not own any cooking equipment...someone can pick up that as well.”

“Plates,” adds Wolfgang. “I only have two.”

Kala giggles sleepily. “You hopeless man.”

“Will and I will do the market,” says Riley cheerfully.

“Wine duty,” calls Felix.

“We’ll do the greengrocers with you,” says Nomi to Lito. “I’m dying for some orange juice.”

“Oh, preach baby,” says Neets. “My liver is yelling at me right now.”

“Cooking equipment,” volunteers Capheus. “Sun, want to join?”

She nods, and then Kala says, “And Wolfgang and I will stay here like the lazy couple we’ve become.”

Everyone agrees, and then they all get to their feet and hug goodbye. Wolfgang gives Hernando the key to his place, and then they disperse. Kala and Wolfgang hang back under the tree, and then Kala puts her arms around Wolfgang’s neck and kisses him softly.

“I missed them,” she murmurs.

“Me too,” he agrees, pulling her closer. “What do you want to do while we wait?”

She smiles. “Walk.”

He nods, running his hands down her back and over her ass. She looks down, blushing gently, then stands on tiptoes to kiss him again. He moves his hands lower and gives her ass a squeeze -- she laughs and presses closer -- and then he lifts his hands to cup her face and kiss her more intensely. They sway slightly on the spot as the light shifts, the sun going behind the buildings as evening falls, and then Kala grins, takes his hands, and pulls him towards the park path.

“I love you so much,” she says.

“Still not used to those words,” he replies, adding, “I love you too.”

She beams at him, then glances at his cane. “You’re so much better.”

He nods. “I think the cast can come off soon.”

“Definitely,” she agrees.

Then they walk in comfortable silence down the path, casting long shadows in front of them, occasionally squeezing each other’s hand, passing the last of the blueberry vodka back and forth. Kala sinks into a feeling of ease and safety, smiling, and after a while, catches sight of a small, empty playground. She grins.

“Wolfgang,” she says softly.

He follows her playful gaze towards the swings and then matches her grin.

“Push me,” she says, darting towards the swings.

“How old are you?” he asks, laughing.

Kala sticks her tongue out, curls flying in the evening breeze, and then she kicks off her heels, going the rest of the way towards the swings at a run. Wolfgang looks down, shaking his head, follows her as quickly as he can manage. She hops on one of the swings, grinning exuberantly, as warm and vibrant as the summer night itself. He reaches her, then takes hold of her feet and pulls them so she swings forward. Then he chuckles and walks around the swing, grabbing her waist as she swings back and holds her briefly.  She giggles and he releases her, pushing her a few more times before she hangs her head back low, hair skimming the grass.

He grins softly and takes a seat in the swing next to her, and then she slows and looks at him. She reaches out to take his head, forcing him to swing next to her. He laughs, eyes bright with a amusement, and she laughs too, giddy.

She slows after a moment, dragging her toes in the grass and leaning back to stare at the skyline beyond the trees, where the first milky stars have appeared and music is playing. Wolfgang watches her for a while, drowning in her warmth and euphoria. Her smile softens after a moment, curious and gentle.

“What is it?” she murmurs.

He thinks before speaking, and when he does, his voice is slow and soft. “What they said earlier, that you didn’t sleep or eat until you found me...?”

Kala nods, lips trembling just slightly. “It was...it was like losing half of myself, like half of my heart was suddenly cold and unreachable...” She sniffles. “Lito is right, it was like I was dying alive because you...you _were_ dying, and...” She sniffles again and he leans over to tuck her hair behind her ears and reassure her. “I felt so close to you, especially after...after our first night together, I know that may sound silly and simple but--”

He shakes his head. “No, that night changed everything.”

She smiles tearfully. “It did. I think I never would have felt wh-whole again.”

He nods, thumbing her tears away. “It’s okay, suße, didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She nods too, and then kisses his palm and nuzzles into it. His throat grows tight with emotion and he kisses her forehead softly.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “Today, with everyone here...we’re finally all safe and I...I can’t help but think about how unlikely this was.” She laughs and shakes her head. “All safe and in love and together. It seems impossible.”

“It’s true,” he mumbles, kissing her forehead again, then her eyebrows and her nose.

She smiles indulgently, tears still coursing over her cheeks. She nods.

Then, shy and bright pink, she whispers, “I...I think we both assumed, but...can I move in with you here while we...put our lives back together?”

Wolfgang can’t contain a grin, and he kisses her repeatedly, saying, “Yes, yeah, of course” between kisses and squeezing her hands.

She beams, sniffling, and they stay still for a moment after this, pressing their foreheads together. Then Wolfgang, heart beating far too quickly, glances at her.

“Kala? You know that I want to be with you the rest of my life.”

Kala nods hard, tangling their fingers together.

“So, in the future, would you want to make that official?”

Kala holds her breath, taken aback but overjoyed by the careful question. She nods. “I would like that, yes. In the future.”

He laughs, relieved. “Okay.”

She grins, nuzzling him, and then murmurs, “Dinner?”

He nods. “Dinner.”

But they don’t move for a few more minutes, swaying in the moonlight and glancing at each other, until finally, prompted by a light rain, they get to their feet, find Kala’s shoes in the dark, and walk slowly home.


	13. August 6, 5:50 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang stay in for the night.

Kala jostles through the doorway with a bag of groceries in the crook of her elbow.

“Are you here?” she calls. 

Wolfgang glances out from the kitchen, looking surprised, one finger in his mouth as if she caught him in the middle of tasting something. She narrows her eyes.

“You’re early,” he tells her.

“Yes, the lab let me leave early,” she says, pleased. 

It only took her three days to find a good fit at a pharmaceutical company, because the woman interviewing her  _ also _ went to the University of Mumbai and remembered eating at Dandekar Restaurant once. Typically this kind of favoritism would make Kala uncomfortable, but she needed some good news for her parents as soon as possible, so she took the position.

“Everyone is so nice to me there,” she goes on. “They compliment my German constantly and several of the women have offered to show me around the city. Germans are very nice people, I’m starting to think you found the only bad Germans and somehow built your life around them, and I apologize, there’s an espresso machine in our break room and I’ve had  _ several _ macchiatos in the last hour, I desperately have to use the restroom, here take these,” she passes the groceries off to him and tries to enter the kitchen, but he stops her. “Wolfgang!”

“You can’t see what I’m making,” he says. 

Kala raises her eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re cooking?”

He gives her a shy smile. “Trying to. Lito’s helping.”

Kala beams, nods, and kisses him gently. “Okay. But the bathroom is on the other side of the kitchen. And I have had six macchiatos. Six.”

He chuckles and sets the bag of groceries aside. 

“Here...” he says, stepping behind her and putting his hands over her eyes. 

She giggles and he guides her through the kitchen. At the other side, she defiantly turns around, trying to peek.

Wolfgang laughs, struggling with her. “Damn it.  _ Kala _ .”

He finally turns her around again and gives her a spank as she walks away. She grins at him over her shoulder, unfazed.

“I want to see!” she calls as she shuts the bathroom door. “You never cook! What are you making?”

“You’re exhausting,” he says in response, reaching for some sugar.

“You love me,” she replies, reappearing after a moment, taking her hair out of its bun. She looks him over in the kitchen -- he has a cloth draped over his shoulder and there’s flour on his cheek -- and fights the urge to kiss him senseless. She pouts for effect and goes on, “It smells chocolatey. You should let me help.”

He shakes his head, laughing. She’s been living with him for two weeks now, and in that time, has transformed the apartment into a warm, vibrant, though too-messy space. For the first time in his life, he loves coming home, knowing he’ll find her in the kitchen making something her father taught her, curled up on the couch with a mug of tea in her hands, taking up his whole bed while she naps in the afternoon sun. Every time she reminds him that he isn’t alone, he’s startled, and she leaves behind plenty of reminders -- a hairpin on the coffee table, a lipstick-stained mug beside the bed, coats on the backs of chairs, and shoes. Shoes everywhere. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to waking up next to her (more accurately, under her, because she has a vice-like grip and refuses to sleep without her head on his chest and one leg around his waist.) 

The nightmares, though still somewhat frequent and showing no sign of permanently disappearing, are not as vivid as they once were. They, like the scars, are faded reminders, and it’s comfort enough to be together in the city that mere weeks ago was a threat.

Wolfgang turns around, blocking her from the kitchen as she makes another attempt to see. 

“It’s a surprise,” he says.

“You know I can just visit and spy on you,” she says, fluffing her hair and kicking her heels off haphazardly in the hallway.

Wolfgang makes a face and Kala sighs.

“You are too organized,” she informs him, picking up the heels and stacking them neatly on a shelf under the coat rack.

“You’re worse than Felix, babe,” he replies.

“Rude,” she murmurs, returning to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a bath and plot my revenge.”

“Revenge for?”

She arches a single eyebrow. “Keeping me out of the kitchen and smacking my backside without my permission.”

“Ah,” he says, adding more softly, “shit, shit, ouch.”

“Need some help?” she teases, perking her head up to look into the kitchen.

“No,” he says, adding more playfully, “So next time, you would like me to ask? For example, may I slap your ass, miss?”

Kala dissolves into giggles and runs the tub. “Focus on your cooking, Wolfgang.”

He grins to himself and continues to work on the chocolate cake which he’s practicing for their upcoming birthday. Kala undresses and sinks gratefully into the bathtub, her hair floating on the surface around her like a crown, and smiles indulgently, nose wrinkled in humor.

“Brownies?” she shouts into the kitchen.

“Nope,” he replies.

She sighs. “Chocolate cheesecake?”

And Lito tuts in their shared minds.  _ As if I would let a beginner try chocolate cheesecake _ .

“Hm,” says Kala, spreading creamy soap over her calves and reaching for a razor. “Chocolate chip cookies?”

“Be patient,” says Wolfgang.

Kala shakes her head, sinking lower in the water. She spends twenty minutes working the bubbles into her skin and shaving her legs. Then, having rinsed her hair under the faucet and worked some almond oil through it, she gets to her feet and wraps a towel around herself.

“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” she calls softly.

“Whatever you like,” he replies.

“A Wrinkle in Time?” she suggests. “Oh, or we could continue with our Van Damme series so we have something to talk about with Capheus this week...”

“Mindless action, yeah,” he agrees. “I’ll be looking at you, anyway.”

She smiles into the towel as she dries her face. She likes it when he stares, when she catches a stolen glance down her neckline, when he pulls her against him, thankful and overwhelmed by her physical presence, wanting only her. She was never comfortable with touch, but his touch is different, and before, she hated herself for wanting to please any man, but she likes pleasing him. In some moments, they exist for each other and each other alone.

“Unless you don’t want me to,” he goes on, cautious but still amused.

She steps out of the bathroom, walking carefully towards him in the kitchen. “I want you to.”

He stops at the sight of her -- bright skin, water beaded on shoulders, dark hair falling in heavy waves. She smiles, the specific smile with rare dimples and a shy, steady blink of her eyes, and then lets him pull her against him.

“Hi,” she murmurs, kissing him softly.

“Hi,” he says back, running his hands over the damp towel, squeezing her waist.

“Chocolate  _ cake _ ,” she murmurs.

His smile gives him away. “Maybe.”

She beams, rubbing her nose against his, then goes to their room in search of pajamas. She selects some soft pink boyshorts and a floral bra, just enough to tease him without being obvious, and returns to the kitchen. He smiles, glancing at her in his periphery, then opens the fridge and raises his eyebrows.

“Prepare yourself, this is the best fucking cake you’ll ever see,” he says softly.

She grins and gently laughs. “Okay. Show me.”

He pulls out a misshapen cake with uneven frosting. Kala covers her face, giggling, and Lito appears briefly, just to say  _ I do not take responsibility for this. _

“Oh  _ no _ ,” murmurs Kala, “Oh, honey, it...”

“Looks like shit,” he finishes.

“No, no,” she says warmly. “I like it. Can I taste?”

He shakes his head and laughs. “Okay, love, here...” He hands her a fork. “Don’t be mean.”

Kala smiles. “Of course not.” She spears the fork into the side of the cake, then takes a bite. She moans. “Oh my God, Wolfgang? It may not look perfect, but the  _ taste _ ...”

Lito cheers in their minds.

Wolfgang grins. “Thank you.”

She nods, also grinning. “It’s marvelous. Let’s eat it all.”

He laughs, pulling her close and kissing the taste of chocolate off of her lips. 

“You’re sweet,” he mumbles, trailing off as his hands find her bare skin under the lace of her bra, listening to her breath catch as he thumbs over her ribs and teases the top curve of her ass.

“Movie?” she asks, pressing closer, knowing he wants her warmth.

He nods. “Movie.” Then he laughs. “Are we going to eat cake for dinner?”

“Oh, yes,” she says, and then she seizes the platter. “Right off of the plate.”

He laughs, following her as she leaves with the cake and two forks. She sits on the couch, tucking her feet under her bum, then sets aside the cake and pulls a blanket over her. Wolfgang sits next to her and holds her close. Her skin is warm and fragrant with almond oil, so he kisses the back of her neck and makes a low, growling sound which makes Kala instantly blush. 

“Be patient,” she whispers, an echo from earlier.

“I’ll try,” he says, but he keeps kissing her neck.

She takes a bite of cake, snuggles against him, and reaches for the remote. Then her phone chimes and she glances at it.

“Oh my God,” she says through the mouthful of chocolate, showing Wolfgang the display, which is an alarm titled  _ 6 Weeks  _ with a confetti emoji. 

Wolfgang squints. “What’s that for?”

“Your cast, I completely forgot,” she murmurs. “It can come off today!”

He glances down at his leg, wiggles his sock, and frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she says excitedly, setting aside the cake. “I was planning on having everyone here, of course, and celebrating--”

“No,” Wolfgang says, voice surprisingly sharp.

Kala stops, wary, and looks at him. “Wolfgang?”

He shakes his head in apology and squeezes her hands. She shifts so she’s kneeling on the couch, and leans forward, taking his face in her hands. 

“Hey, hey,” she murmurs. “Are...are you scared it won’t be the same?”

He shrugs, looking down. She thumbs over the short hair above his ears, then rubs her hands down his arms and rests her forehead against his.

“It was a fairly clean break, which is surprising considering…” She trails off, avoiding the memory of two masked interrogators forcing his leg against the side of the metal chair until a sickening crack rippled through the entire Cluster. She clears her throat. “It was a clean break. I expect you’ll only need a short course of physical therapy--”

He snorts. “Physical therapy?”

Kala hesitates. “I -- I could do it for you--”

“Not you,” he says flatly. “I don’t want you to see me like that, you’ve already seen enough.”

Kala wets her lips, heart pounding, and she sniffles. She expected this moment to be exciting, which she realizes now was foolish.

“Okay, just me,” she murmurs. “And we don’t have to think about physical therapy yet.”

He shakes his head and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, I…” He continues to shake his head, eyes still downcast, jaw working in thought. “You deserve to be excited, I should be excited...I just…” He rests his head in his hand, brow wrinkled, and when he speaks again his voice is dull and quiet. “I want to play soccer. I want to walk to the store without a cane, I want to be able to fight for you, I want to fuck you properly again--”

Kala makes an involuntary noise.

“Sorry,” he says. “Shit, sorry.”

“What is properly?” asks Kala warmly. 

He glances at her. “Properly...is pushing you up against a wall, putting your legs around my waist, holding you up…”

Kala blinks, mouth dry, and manages to respond with a soft, “Ah huh.”

Wolfgang snorts and covers his face, then looks at her through his fingers. “Too honest?”

Kala could laugh it off, but she smiles instinctively and murmurs, “No...I...I think about these things too. I want you...on top of me again.”

Due to his leg, they both found it simpler for her to straddle his lap and ride him -- which he loves because her breasts bounce gently, because she often exhausts herself and collapses against him when she comes -- but she misses the sensation from their first time together; she misses feeling small underneath him and opening her legs for him.

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow in response. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she breathes, biting her bottom lip, a rich blush flooding her cheeks. “I miss your weight on me, it’s...different like that.” 

Wolfgang chuckles, thumbing over her lips. “You’re old-fashioned.”   


“Oh, please don’t tease me,” she says, hiding her face. 

He pulls her hands down from her face and kisses her. “I’m not teasing you, I miss that too.”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head, then bursts out in a whisper, “How is it possible that you  _ still _ make me shy?”

“You make me shy, too, I try to hide it,” he tells her.

“Oh,” says Kala dubiously. “What does  _ your _ shy look like?”

“Fuck, are you kidding?” he asks, gesturing at himself. “It looks like this. Look at this shit, I’m a mess--”

Kala shakes her head, laughing, and shuts him up with a kiss. Then she sighs and drops her hands into her lap. 

“What were we talking about?” she murmurs.

“Leg,” he reminds her.

She nods, reaching to softly pat his cast. Then she looks at him, hopeful.

“Do you want to?” she asks.

“Do I want to…?”

“Take it off. The cast.”

He frowns. “How?”

“I have a saw,” says Kala. 

Wolfgang stares at her, then drops his head back against the pillows and laughs loudly. 

“I do!” protests Kala. “I had Nomi steal one from the hospital in Iceland--”

But he’s still laughing. She’s never seen him laugh like this while sober, and it’s infectious, and she starts to laugh too. 

“I do,” she insists, hiccupping and jumping to her feet. “I am going to go get it!”

She darts into their room, searches through several boxes until she finds the small, circular saw. When she returns, Wolfgang is still laughing feebly, both hands over his face. Kala searches for a nearby plug, and then surprises him by whirring the blade. He sits up with a start, then looks at her -- his Kala, half-dressed, tawny skin glowing in the evening sun coming in from the window, a medical saw in her slender, manicured grip. She looks surprisingly powerful considering she’s wearing pink boyshorts and a plunging bra patterned with roses. 

Wolfgang wrinkles his brow deeply and gestures at her. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Kala looks down at herself, her lips forming a slow grin. “Don’t...don’t most doctors dress this way?”

“They should,” he says, grinning gently at her and gesturing for her to come closer. 

She walks up to him, trailing her hand out for him to take, and he pulls her onto his lap. She sets the saw carefully on the side table, then puts her arms around him and settles closer so her hair falls around his face. He squeezes her sides gently and she smiles.

“You  _ will _ be okay,” she murmurs. “It takes times, but it wasn’t your spine, there was no nerve damage…” Her voice shakes slightly. “And Wolfgang, I know how much you were injured growing up...you always came back stronger.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” he says gruffly. 

She shakes her head slightly. “It is true. For all the…” Her voice trembles again, but this time, in anger. “For all the  _ evil _ things that man did to you, you grew up to become the opposite of him. It would have been so easy for you to justify hurting everyone who loves you because of what he did, but you didn’t.”

“I have hurt everyone, Kala--”

“Only the men who deserved it,” she interrupts, and he looks at her in surprise. She wipes a quavering tear off of one eye. “You were right. You did the right thing. You had to protect yourself and you had to protect Felix.”

He breathes out, holding her instinctively tighter.

“You couldn’t have done anything else,” she says with finality. 

He nods slowly, studying her intensity. Then he murmurs, “Even if that’s true...my father wasn’t…” A grim, lifeless smile twists his face. “He wasn’t BPO.”

Kala’s brow twitches in concern, and she whispers, “But your father, he...broke your arm and…”

“He only beat me when I was home at the wrong time, so I learned his routine,” says Wolfgang shortly. “It was predictable, and every time I could go to Felix’s, he’d always find me drugs to sleep through the pain. BPO wasn’t like that, it…” He shrugs feebly. “It was relentless. Only went away if I blacked out.”

“But...but you must have felt betrayed in a different way by your father, I never remember you feeling betrayed in Italy--”

“Doesn’t matter. I knew who my father was, I knew what BPO was. The difference is...”

“The pain,” guesses Kala, voice hollow.

He forces himself to nod, gaze blank. Kala holds a sob in her throat and she leans closer, desperate to make him accept the story she wants to be true, powerless against the reality that it isn’t. 

“So...so your leg will heal,” she says faintly, realizing his fears. “But…”

“But I don’t know if anything will ever be normal,” he mutters.

“Was anything ever normal?” she asks after a moment. 

“No,” he replies. “But it was easier.”

She nods. She wants to take his face in her hands and shake her head desolately. She wants to cry with him. But she isn’t meant to console him or grieve in front of him, and she knows she never has been. She’s always been the small but insistent voice in his head that tells him to try, to have, however he conceives of it, some faith.

“It may have been easier,” she concedes. “But I am not with you because it is easy or because it is hard. I am with you because I love you and I am  not leaving.”

He looks up at her and, faint but unmistakable, a light enters his eyes. He nods slowly.

“Do you believe me?” she whispers.

He nods again. “Yes, suße.”

She smiles at the nickname, one of the few words that sounds truly soft when he speaks. She kisses his forehead and then he holds her closer, pressing a line of kisses on her neck and nuzzling her ear.

“You’re always so patient,” he mumbles, adding, “if I don’t always react the way you want me to, it’s because I’m not...not used to that.”

Kala nods, then pulls back to look at him. “Would you like me to…?”

He looks down at his leg, then takes a steadying breath and nods. “Can I have a drink first?”

She chuckles. “Yes, okay.”

She gets to her feet, goes into the kitchen, and pours him a helping of vodka. He drinks it in one go when she returns and then goes back to looking at his leg.

Kala hums, strategizing. “So, sit on the edge of the couch, and brace your foot on the coffee table…”

He listens to her, but says, “How -- how do you know when to stop cutting? Have you done this before?”

“I’ll know because the sound changes,” she says reassuringly, kneeling down in front of him. “Okay, stay perfectly still. Hand me my glasses please?” 

He hands her the reading glasses she keeps on the side table and she puts them on. Wolfgang, though he would like to appear stoic, can’t help but grip the arm of the couch and grit his teeth. He trusts Kala unconditionally, but the fact that she’s never done this before is unsettling.

“Okay, perfectly still,” she repeats.

Then she turns on the saw and presses it firmly to the outside of the cast. The plaster whines against the blade and Kala bites her bottom lip, concentrating.

“Shit, I don’t like this,” mumbles Wolfgang. 

“Shh,” soothes Kala, moving along the cast.

It takes several passes of the blade before she determines she’s made a deep enough cut. She sits back, breathing out, and sets the saw aside. Then she takes either side of the cast, pulls, and it cracks apart. 

“Fuck,” Wolfgang says, fascinated. “It looks the same.”

“What were you expecting? Green scales?”

“Something like that.”

Kala laughs, getting up to sit next to him again. She huffs, feeling accomplished, and looks down at his leg. 

“You still need to be careful,” she tells him. “Six more weeks before any strenuous activity.”

“What counts as strenuous?” he asks.

“Soccer,” she says seriously. “If I see you and Felix playing soccer--”

“No soccer,” he agrees. 

“But, yes, you can walk without a cane,” she says softly. “Walk, not run.”

“What about jogging?” he asks cheekily.

Kala sighs, laughing, and leans her head against his chest. He grins, pleased with himself, then kisses the top of her head.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

She nods, snuggling against him for a moment as the last sliver of sun slips behind the apartments across the street. She shivers and he reaches automatically for one of her shawls which she left on the couch earlier, then wraps it around her. She glances up and presses a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Movie?” she asks.

He looks at his leg. “No. I want to try this out.”

She grins suddenly and nods. Then she gets to her feet, picks up the discarded cast and sets it neatly beside the trash, and helps him stand up. 

“What do you want to try?” she says breathily, and immediately puts a finger on his mouth when he smirks and runs his hands over her ass. “Baby steps. Carrying me to bed is not baby steps.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re so disciplined.”

“I want to keep you healthy,” she murmurs. 

He nods in concession, laughing, then glances at the bookshelf nearby which includes a small speaker.

“Let me dance with you,” he says softly.

She holds still, and without waiting for an answer, he goes over to the bookshelf, lights a few candles on the top of it, and connects his phone. 

“I hope I’m right about this,” he says quietly, pressing play. 

Kala covers her face as the first notes sound. She blushes furiously. “Oh no, oh my God, you  _ are _ right. Oh, this is such an embarrassing soundtrack to love. I was nine when this came out, oh, Daya and I we...we would dance to the whole movie and fall asleep in front of the television…”

“The movie nights with Felix finally paid off,” he remarks, smiling to himself and offering his hand. “C’mere.”

“Felix likes  _ Dil To Pagal Hai* _ ?” she asks in disbelief, crossing the room to reach him.

“No,” says Wolfgang, pulling her close. “I know because you’re my girlfriend.”

“I’ve never told you about this movie,” she says suspiciously, though she smiles at  _ girlfriend _ .

Wolfgang chuckles and gives in. “You used my phone last week when yours was dead and didn’t log out of my Spotify.”

Kala groans at herself, then murmurs, “It’s funny. This movie was filmed in Germany, did you know that?”

“Really?” he asks.

She nods, draping her arms around his neck and swaying gently with him. “I loved it as a girl, it was so different than Mumbai.” She smiles softly. “My mother, she was from Chhattisgarh, and that was nothing like Mumbai, quite rural, and she came to Mumbai when she was so young with my father, and...she said that arriving in the city was like walking into a...monumental spice shop. She said she felt so small, and all the new colors and sights and smells blended together, and that she always felt a desire to simply shut her eyes and...escape.” Kala smiles and gives a small shrug. “Mumbai can be very overwhelming, even for me, though I was born there. So watching this movie with Daya and seeing...empty streets? And forests? It was magical.”

“Hm,” Wolfgang murmurs in thought.

“What?” prompts Kala, gentler than usual.

“My mother always wanted more noise,” he replies. “Thought Berlin was too quiet.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “She always talked about America.”

“Did she want to go?” asks Kala, surprised.

He nods. “She wasn’t always logical, she always talked about chocolate.”

“Chocolate?” queries Kala.

“Chocolate,” he confirms. “Advent calendars.”

Kala shakes her head in confusion.

“They’re these...countdown calendars,” he explains. “They start on the first day of December, and you count down until Christmas, opening a little window on each calendar space every day. She would always buy one for me at Christmas, and here, they’re just pictures behind the windows. At least, it always used to be like that. But in America, there’s chocolate in the windows so you get a piece every day. And Mama, she…” He laughs. “She was so angry when she found out. She said she would take me there, said Germany didn’t have anything for us.”

“Oh my goodness,” murmurs Kala. “Because of the calendars?”   


He shakes his head. “I think they represented everything for her. No one would talk to us in Berlin at first.”

“Because of your family…?”

“Commie bastards, that was the usual one,” he replies. 

She nods in understanding. Then she whispers, “Strange tradition.”

He pulls her closer, nose almost resting against hers as they dance lazily together. “The calendars?”

She nods. “Why would you count down?”   


“We...take Christmas seriously,” he says with a chuckle. 

She laughs, then asks, “The pictures, what were they of?”   


“Everything,” he tells her. “Reindeer, houses, candy.”

“Oh, so you got  _ pictures _ of candy at least,” she jokes.

He grins and shakes his head. “That’s what it always felt like to mama. She could see it, she couldn’t have it. But she tried. My father hated Christmas trees, thought they took up too much space, so we never had one. But one year, Mama woke me up in the middle of the night, and made me walk out to the edge of the city with her, and she had...put candles in the snow all around this tree, and she just...sat down in front of it, no explanation, and I sat with her and she sang all night.”

Kala presses closer as they dance. “That’s lovely. What did she sing? Carols?”

He nods. “ _ Süßer die Glocken nie klingen** _ , she loved that one.”

“Did she sing well?” asks Kala. 

“Beautifully, yeah,” he replies. 

“Is that why you…?” she trails off.

“Sang in choir?” he asks. He nods. “I was never as good.”

“I’m not sure that you gave yourself a chance,” she murmurs with a small smile.

“Well, it’s going to take more than one drink before you hear me sing,” he teases.

She grins, wrinkling her nose and touching her forehead on his. “It’s okay.”

They dance without speaking for a few moments, Kala’s head on Wolfgang’s chest. He holds her closer than he would if they were dancing correctly, but she doesn’t mind, focused instead on how natural it feels to dance with him, how his feet always find the right marks, how gentle his hands are on her lower back. She looks up, softly beaming, and despite the darkness of the living room, her expression distinctly reminds him of the one she wore in her sunny Mumbai bedroom after she packed for Paris, after they kissed, during their one, short-lived moment of hope. He pulls her closer and she kisses him on instinct, and she’s surprised how easily her fears melt in moments like these; she’s surprised how clear their future together becomes, crystallized in his eyes as she stares into them; she’s surprised how certain she is that, decades from now, she’ll find herself dancing spontaneously with him.

She smiles and gestures at their feet. “You’ll be running from the cops again in no time.”

He laughs softly, but shakes his head. “I need to do something else.”

“I was hoping you would,” she admits softly. “What do you have in mind?”

He hesitates, focusing on the soft light over her shoulders. Then he murmurs, “I want to help kids who were like me. Who had no one to talk to.”

Kala knits her brow slightly, surprised. “Really?”

He nods. “If even...one person...told me I was right not to feel guilty about defending myself, if one person told me what happened to me wasn’t my fault…”

Kala’s breath halts in her chest, suddenly understanding. She nods. “You would know what to say. You would understand.” Then she glances up at him. “Children? Do you...like to work with children?”

A flicker of a smile. A memory in their shared mind of a night fifteen years ago, when Felix brought his little cousins to the shop and forced Wolfgang to watch them while he went in search of Katrina Unger. 

“Yeah,” he admits. 

Kala shakes her head in bewilderment. “How...how can we know so much about each other and still have so much to discover?”

He shakes his head too in response. “At least we have the time now."

She nods seriously, standing on her toes to press a lingering kiss to his mouth. Then he grins, scoops her up in his arms despite her protests about his leg, carries her unwaveringly into their room, and kicks the door shut with his foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> *This Heart is Crazy  
> ** The Bells Never Sound Sweeter


	14. August 7, 11:07 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix brings breakfast, Riley gives fashion advice, the group celebrates at a club, and Kala gets jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: Lito, Nomi, Amanita, Hernando, and Dani are all still in Berlin! The others left to take care of various responsibilities.
> 
> This chapter fills a prompt by thank-god-for-gravity. Thank you! 
> 
> I wanted to write a fluffy, fun chapter...so, here's the result ;)

Kala and Wolfgang wake up late in a tangle of sheets, the late-morning sun streaming in through the window and casting a shadow of their figures on the floor. Kala sits up in the light, blinking and looking around for the source of the knocking which woke her. Wolfgang grumbles and reaches to pull her back to bed, but the knocking sounds again.

“Are you _still_ in bed?” shouts Felix from the hallway below. “What the fuck, it’s eleven!”

Wolfgang looks at Kala, who blushes slightly, looking caught. “We should...get dressed.”

“Or you could answer the door like that, make his day,” says Wolfgang, gesturing at her.

“As much as I would love to make you jealous,” she murmurs, getting up and wrapping the sheet around her, “I’m just for you.”

He grins and rubs his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I could hear you say that all day.”

“Wolfgang, for fuck’s sake!” yells Felix.

Wolfgang gets hastily out of bed and reaches for a pair of sweats. Kala, laughing, quickly pulls on a robe and some slippers and they both go downstairs. Wolfgang opens the door, Kala hanging back with her arms gently folded, and Felix is revealed in the doorway, his hair a mess of frustration and impatience.

“I brought you fucking pastries, and you take ten minutes to open the door?”

“We were asleep,” says Wolfgang.

Felix gestures at the scars on his friend’s chest.

“Fuck, man, I think you have me beat now. Those are gruesome.”

Wolfgang smiles coolly. “Yeah, thanks, Felix.”

Then Felix jumps and points at his leg. “Shit! The cast is off, when did that happen?”

“Last night,” says Wolfgang, grinning at Kala. “She has a saw, by the way, don’t piss her off too much.”

“She terrified me before I knew that,” Felix assures him.

Kala beams at this, then asks, “Why pastries?”

“Old habit, I guess,” says Felix with a shrug. “Wolfie always got locked in his room on his birthday, wasn’t allowed to celebrate, so we’d celebrate on the seventh.”

“What?” murmurs Kala. “Why?”

“Who the fuck knows what went on in his asshole father's head?” Felix says in response, stepping inside and handing her the pastries.

Kala shakes her head. “How awful.” Then she opens the bag and sniffs it. “Ooh, Felix! What are these?”

“Bienenstich, it’s what my mother always had on hand, never had the money to buy these so she would make them for Wolfie,” Felix explains.

“That’s before you started stealing from that bakery,” Wolfgang reminds him

“Yeah, that lasted a lousy month before the baker knocked me out cold with a rolling pin.”

Wolfgang snorts, putting an arm around Kala’s waist and guiding her into the kitchen, which is a flour-and-cocoa disaster after yesterday’s experiment with cake.

Felix frowns at Wolfgang. “I’ve never seen you leave a room looking like this.”

“I got...distracted,” he settles for, making sure not to look at Kala.

“Uh huh,” says Felix knowingly as they sit down at the table. “Make us coffee.”

Wolfgang smacks the back of Felix’s head, but gets up and puts water on the stove.

“So,” Felix says excitedly, leaning forward. “He’s better now, yeah?”

Kala hesitates. “He still needs to be careful, so no soccer, do you understand?”

“No soccer?” asks Felix, groaning. “Fuck, for how much longer? What if we were careful?”

Kala laughs. “Oh, no. I’ve seen how he plays. There’s no room for _careful_.”

Felix wrinkles his brow. “You’ve seen him play?” Then his face softens. “Oh, shit, yeah, your whole…” He flaps his hands at her. “The psychic thing.”

Kala rolls her eyes, gently taking out three pastries from the bag and nudging Wolfgang to hand her silverware and napkins.

“He’s very good,” she murmurs after a moment.

“Yeah, no shit,” agrees Felix.

She smiles. “The game I saw...one of the other players gave you a bloody nose, and I’m not sure how Wolfgang managed it, but he made sure that player got one too…”

“Shit, yeah, retaliation’s his thing,” laughs Felix, adding, “this is why he got kicked off all school teams, see, if you think I’m skinny and defenseless now, I was a fucking stick figure as a kid, he was always protecting me in the game.”

“You weren’t defenseless,” says Wolfgang quietly, stirring some coffee into the French press and glancing around for sugar.

Felix shrugs. “I _did_ fight off a bunch of scum who ganged up on him for being from the Eastern Bloc. Assholes. But I was pretty defenseless.”

“You talk such shit Felix, I wouldn’t be here without you,” says Wolfgang, setting his coffee down in front of him along with a container of sugar. “Here’s your coffee, if you can call it that.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t make me a pussy just because I put some sugar in my coffee.”

“Jury’s out on that,” says Wolfgang,

Felix gestures at Kala. “How do you put up with this shit?”

“He’s nicer to me than you,” murmurs Kala, pleased.

“Yeah, that’s for fucking sure,” says Felix, adding as Wolfgang sits down, “happy birthday, asshole. Any plans?”

Wolfgang pulls one of the _Bienenstich_ cakes towards him and licks a bit of frosting off his finger. He shrugs and looks at Kala. He assumed they would spend the day with their Cluster-mates who stayed in Berlin for some time off -- Nomi and Lito.

“Babe, any ideas?” he asks her.

“Whatever we do will be better than last year,” she murmurs.

“Shit, I was planning on taking you to a beach and lighting your name up in giant letters--”

Kala laughs and covers her face. Felix looks at them both, confused. Kala finally settles into a gentle giggle, shaking her head, and takes a bite of the cake.

“This is wonderful,” she says through the mouthful of cream and almonds, and goes on, “Lito mentioned going somewhere in the countryside and staying in a resort.”

“Oh, shit!” says Felix. “That reminds me, I brought your car over, and now that your cast is off you can drive again. And scare the fuck out of your girlfriend with your driving. Have you seen him drive?”

Kala thinks back to the helicopter incident and raises her eyebrows. “Well.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “He rode a motorcycle until we were about twenty, never shook the reckless attitude that went with that.”

Kala glances at Wolfgang. “A motorcycle? Hmm, I think I want to see that...”

“Don’t encourage him,” says Felix flatly.

“I’ll be more careful, I have a girlfriend now,” says Wolfgang with a wry smile.

Felix shakes his head. “We were sixteen, and he was driving me over to Wuppertal to see my grandparents, right? And because he had a death wish, he stole Steiner’s _brand new_ Volkswagon Phaeton, those are not fucking cheap, okay? And Wolfie _barely_ knew how to drive, right? So, spent the entire time on the Autobahn going about 160 kilometers per hour, and I don’t know if you know, but it’s not as fucking unlimited as people believe, there’s speed limits, but he ignored them and outdrove the police...I swear, my balls retracted right into my body on that trip.”

“Do you hear yourself sometimes?” asks Wolfgang.

Felix ignores him. “So after a certain point, we hit an icy patch, spun out, and crunched the nose of the car against a fucking barricade.”

“I imagine Steiner was pleased,” says Kala, drinking her coffee.

“Well, here’s the thing,” says Felix with a laugh. “We made it look like the car was stolen. And that dumb fucker bought it.”

“He was easy to fool,” says Wolfgang.

Felix sighs. “Still don’t forgive you for telling him I sucked dick for the S and D combination.”

Kala frowns. “Yes, Felix, _do_ you hear yourself?” Then she stops. “Wait. You told Steiner _what_?”

Wolfgang starts to laugh. “It was Lito’s idea.”

Kala’s eyes widen in shock, and then she laughs loudly, tilting her head back. “Oh my God, _no!_ ”

Felix gestures at her. “Thank you! That’s the appropriate reaction!”

Wolfgang grins to himself and drinks his coffee. Kala laughs into her hands after a moment and Felix shakes his head, spearing a piece of cake, feeling vindicated.

Finally Kala hiccups and says, “Okay, Felix, since you celebrate on the seventh, would you like to do something with us today?”

He brightens. “Sure! Oh, shit, we should go the new club around the corner!”

Wolfgang glances down at his leg. “I think I’d be okay. Kala?”

“Oh, a club?” she asks, hesitant.

“We don’t have to get piss drunk or stay up all night,” says Felix encouragingly.

“What -- what is it like?” she wonders. “Do you...dance? It’s never looked much like dancing to me…”

“Synchronized grinding?” suggests Felix.

“Oh, no, no thank you,” says Kala.

“Don’t listen to him,” says Wolfgang. “You can ignore everyone. The others would probably go.”

“Yeah, we’ll form a protective circle around you!” says Felix. “No one will rub their junk against you on our watch. Well, except--”

Wolfgang shoves him before he can finish the thought.

“I suppose that would be alright,” says Kala. “I’m not sure that I have anything to wear…”

“Mm, shit, I know the best place,” says Felix through a bite of cake. “We can go shopping while Wolfgang takes a shift at the shop for once in his goddamn life.”

Wolfgang laughs. “You want to take my girlfriend shopping?”

“Yeah, we’ll bring Lito and Dani, they have good taste,” says Felix. “C’mon, it’ll be fun, and I can buy Wolfie a real birthday present. Huh, haven’t done that in years.”

Kala frowns. “Why not?”

“I always get him condoms,” replies Felix.

“Oh,” murmurs Kala, blushing and drinking her coffee.

“It’ll be fun,” Felix insists.

She has to smile. “Well, okay.”

***

Twenty minutes later, Kala and Wolfgang have gotten dressed and tidied the kitchen. They follow Felix outside into the noon sun. Wolfgang grins at the sight of his car on the side of the street, kisses Kala goodbye, and starts the drive to the locksmith. Felix and Kala, meanwhile, walk north to meet Lito and Dani, who texted they would go shopping.

“If I ever say too much, tell me to shut up,” says Felix as they walk. “You know. LIke the condom story. I don’t mean to, you know, bring up bad memories.”

“Bad memories?” queries Kala.

Felix rubs his arm, uncomfortable. “You know. About Wolfgang and his...ways.”

“Oh,” laughs Kala. “It’s alright. I think it’s silly to be jealous of the past.”

“That’s good of you,” says Felix.

“And believe me,” she goes on in a murmur. “There’s nothing you can tell me that I don’t know. He didn’t work very hard to hide the girls from me.”

“Yeah, he’s an inconsiderate asshole,” replies Felix. “But you have nothing to worry about now, you know, he’s crazy about you.”

Kala smiles, adjusting her sunglasses on her nose and stretching her shoulders back in the sun.

“Oh,” she says, voice low and mischievous. “I know.”

Felix snorts, and then they catch sight of Dani and Lito on the next corner. They wave, both carrying large coffees and wearing sunhats. Dani, who’s grown extremely fond of Kala, darts forward and hugs her tightly.

“I hear we’re shopping for a fuck-me dress, I am the _best_ at finding those!”

“A what-me dress?” asks Kala, and then her eyes widen and she blushes slightly. “Oh! Um.”

Dani grins at how shy she is, then puts an arm around her waist as they turn down a smaller street.

“I cannot _believe_ we’re actually going to a Berlin club, I’ve wanted to do this my entire life,” she says excitedly, adding to Lito, “you’ll have to brag about this to Blake, he’s never been.” She pauses. “He’s cute, right? Do I have a chance with him?”

“Dani, do not steal my on-screen lover just yet,” sighs Lito.

“Ooh, _and_ ,” Dani goes on. “Riley gave me something before she left last week. She hooked us _up_.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a baggy of pot. “We’re going to be up all night.”

Kala raises her eyebrows. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” says Dani with a shrug. “Have you ever tried it?”

“No, no,” says Kala, alarmed at the thought.

“Wolfie’ll be happy, it’s been _months_ ,” says Felix.

Kala glances at him, surprised. “You two do drugs together?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Not often, you know. Mostly just drink, he doesn’t like feeling completely out of control.”

Dani raises her dark brows at Kala, eyes warm and encouraging. “Don’t feel pressured, honey, but...it _is_ fun.”

Lito chuckles richly. “Somehow I can’t picture our Kala lighting up.”

“Maybe save it for a moment alone with your guy,” adds Dani in a murmur. “You’ll feel safer. And the sex is amazing when you’re high.”

“Dani, stop teasing the woman,” says Lito.

Dani pinches Kala’s side playfully and sips her coffee. The four of them walk slowly in the sun down a street with huge hanging planters. Kala feels like an undergraduate again, pulled into the party crowd by mistake, but she can’t resist the excitement of it, even though her friends do annoy her and talk far too much about sex.

They continue in rare silence for a moment, and then reach a small shop with a window showcasing tiny, sparkly dresses, suits, and exotic, colorful shoes.

“Ooh,” says Dani, pointing out a pair of white dress shoes splattered with cornflower blue paint and decorated with pieces of broken stained glass.

Felix looks at her, surprised, then grins hard. “Cool, right?”

Lito and Kala look at each other with a tiny smile and go inside while Felix and Dani linger at the window, looking at the shoes. An attendant greets them, and then they go to a rack featuring blue and turquoise dresses. Kala drums on her bottom lip with her fingertips, then glances at Lito for guidance.

Lito grins. “What are you going for?”

She blushes, then surprises herself by whispering, “Something he can’t look away from.”

Lito squeezes Kala’s shoulders from behind and says, “I think you’ll accomplish that without the help of any dress.”

“Maybe,” murmurs Kala. “But I want to spoil him…”

“Have you gotten used to it?” asks Lito, interested and kind.

Kala raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Lito shrugs with a small, tender smile. “Being wanted.”

Kala’s breath hitches in her throat and she runs her hands over the shimmering fabrics on the rack. Then she smiles gently. “It’s strange, but all my life, I never understood what any of my friends felt when they would look at a man on the street and gush and try to find him online. I...I never remember having crushes or ever dreaming about a boy. I’ve only ever really wanted...him.”

Lito smiles more widely and nods.

“I think it takes me a very long time,” she goes on quietly. “So, I think _that_ is stranger than being wanted.”

Lito nods again.

“And, after spending so much of my life without having sex… sometimes I’m surprised that I...I have someone to share that with, whenever I want. And I’m surprised how…” She trails off, laughing at herself.

Lito chuckles. “How much you want to?”

“Yes, because I never did want to, for so long,” she replies.

Lito grins appreciatively and puts an arm around her as they walk down the rack of dresses.

“I thought I would be so shy,” she sighs after a moment, pulling a lilac dress out to examine it. “But he’s so careful with me, he...he’s never made me nervous, not like other men have.”

“That’s gorgeous,” Lito says about the dress, adding, “I think you see the good in him in a way no one else ever has. He feels safe with you, just as you do with him. You’re made for each other.”

Kala nods, then breathes in sharply and says, “Okay, okay, dresses…”

Dani and Felix join them after a moment and Dani immediately selects two black dresses, a light orange one, and three blue-green ones. She goes with Kala into a dressing room nearby. Kala rolls her eyes at Lito and gently pushes Dani back out.

“Those dresses are harder than they look to put on!” Dani calls from the outside.

“Then maybe I can help,” murmurs a new voice -- Riley, visiting, sitting on the bench in the dressing room.

“Oh, thank goodness,” says Kala, smiling invitingly, then yelling to Dani, “I’m alright, thank you!”

Riley smiles at her in the mirror. “So, let’s try this sea green one, it would look so nice with your skin tone...I’ll look away when you change, don’t worry.”

Kala bites her bottom lip playfully and squeezes Riley’s arm. “You’re sweet, but, I don’t think I mind.”

“Well, in that case…”  says Riley, holding two open fists over her eyes to replicate binoculars.

Kala laughs and picks up the first dress to try, but finds it’s too loose. Then she determines the black ones are too plain, and the other blue ones are too short. This leaves her with the orange dress.

“It seems quite revealing…” she says to Riley as she examines it.

“I think it’s perfect,” Riley replies, full of warmth.

Kala smiles and tries it on. Riley helps her fasten the clasp at the top of the zipper, then sets her chin on Kala’s shoulder.

“Mm, your hair is tickling me,” says Kala with a laugh, halfheartedly pushing her away.

“You look stunning,” murmurs Riley.

Kala takes a breath, scrutinizing. The neckline plunges so low it reveals a diamond of skin under her breasts; the vibrant color makes her skin glow and she smiles at the way the fabric hugs her hips. She tilts her head in thought, scooping her hands under her breasts and lifting them up.

“It’s a bit low cut, yes?”

Riley shakes her head. “Not for a club, love.”

Kala sighs and nods.

“Okay,” she says, taking a breath and stepping out to show Lito and Dani, Felix having wandered back to the shoe area.

Lito and Dani immediately grip each other for support and squeal together.

“Yes!” yells Lito, disrupting the small store. “Beautiful!”

“Ay, Kala, be careful, you don’t want him to faint and break his leg again!”

Kala laughs, tugging on one of her curls nervously.

“Where were you hiding those?” Dani goes on, gesturing at her breasts.

Kala promptly crosses her arms over her chest. “They’re shy, Dani.”

Lito chuckles at this exchange, then gives Kala a squeeze and kisses the side of her head. Kala smiles to herself, goes back in the dressing room, and emerges a moment later in her jeans and blouse, just as Felix is arriving with two boxes of shoes.

“No one say anything, I know I have a problem,” he says to them.

***

The four of them return to the street, now in search of lunch. They buy some flatbread stuffed with spinach and cheese and return to the locksmith, where they catch Wolfgang and Nomi hunched over at the counter. Amanita is standing by, rolling her eyes with Hernando.

“He’s teaching her how to pick locks,” explains Hernando.

“Which I’m not thrilled about,” says Neets, though she smiles and calls, “You get in enough trouble as it is, Noms!”

Nomi can’t hear her through the headphones.

Felix squints. “Are you showing her how to crack the office safe?”

Wolfgang shrugs, stepping away for a moment.

Felix groans. “Did you do _any_ business while we were gone?”

Wolfgang avoids the question by gesturing at Felix’s shoe boxes. “Really?”

Then he pulls Kala into his arms, kisses her hello, and she beams up at him.

“Find something?” he asks.

“I think you’ll like it,” she says in response, kissing him quickly again.

The group eventually sits down around the counter to eat lunch. Nomi writes out some simple hacking techniques for Wolfgang in exchange for more practice on the safe, while the others marvel about the flatbread is and make plans for the night.

***

By nine p.m., everyone has gathered at Wolfgang’s small apartment for a few drinks before they go out. Dani, Felix, and Lito, however, are still in the bathroom, applying final touches. For the last half hour, the others have been treated to a constant chorus of _Ay, Lito, move OVER; Does this match? This doesn’t fucking match, does it?; Ow! Lito! My foot!_

Nomi, Hernando, and Amanita wait it out at the kitchen table, sipping some wine and discussing the importance of art classes in public schools. Kala, who had been helping Dani with her makeup, finally escapes the cramped bathroom and seeks refuge behind the apartment building where she knows Wolfgang is waiting.

She finds him outside the door, head tilted back to look at the sky, a blunt loose in his fingers as if he forgot it.

He looks at her when the door clicks shut and holds still at the sight of her; the only movement is the subtle curl of his lips. Kala looks down, tucking her hair behind her ear, cheeks warm, and looks up only when she reaches him.

“Hi,” she murmurs.

He chuckles and runs his hand down her side. “Hi.”

“Too much?” she asks.

She accented the dress with a delicate gold necklace, earrings, and several matching bangles. Dani also talked her into dark eyeshadow and unwieldy black heels.

He shakes his head slowly, looking her up and down. “Fuck. No.”

She smiles gently. “Good.” Then she kisses him and grins excitedly. “This will be fun.”

“If we ever leave,” he replies, bringing the blunt up to his mouth.

Kala laughs. Then she raises a curious eyebrow, takes the blunt out of Wolfgang’s fingers, and examines it. A slow smirk starts on the corner of his mouth, bringing out faint dimples. Kala looks at him, eyes blazing with mischief, and gently takes a drag. He shakes his head, laughing, surprised. She coughs, eyes watering, then giggles at herself.

He takes the blunt back from her, then puts an arm around her and squeezes her ass gently. She puts her arms around his neck, lifting her face for a kiss.

“Are you sure this is okay?” she murmurs against his lips. “I’ve never worn anything like this in my life…”

He looks at her with a forceful smirk, then tilts his head, drags two fingers along her neckline, and teases the bare skin at the top of her tummy.

“You’re stunning,” he tells her.

She shivers and turns pink.

“What’s underneath?” he asks, tugging at the dress.

Her lips tremble and she shakes her head gently. “Be patient.”

He hums in thought, trailing his fingers down until he feels her bellybutton through the thin fabric of her dress. She breathes in deeply, sinking into the feeling, then takes the blunt from him again and takes another, tiny puff.

“What happened to Kala?” he jokes.

She smiles. “Her new boyfriend is a bad influence.”

Wolfgang chuckles, drawing a line back up her body, rough fingertips lingering on her collarbone and her neck. He kisses her, then turns her and pulls her gently against him from behind. She leans her head on his chest and looks up at the sky with him. The sky is still milky orange along the horizon, giving way to inky blue and faint, city stars; it’s a warm, windy night and Kala’s unruly hair catches in the air, carrying the scent of oranges and almonds.Wolfgang kisses her behind her ear and holds her closer, and she looks over her shoulder at him with a smile.

She’s about to speak, but the door to the apartments bursts open and Dani yells, “Hey, sexiest couple of the year, get your asses in here! We’re leaving!”

***

Kala walks down the hallway to the club, head back, watching the blue and white lights dance on the ceiling.

“Oh my,” she murmurs, extending her arms and twirling as she stares. “This is gorgeous…but so loud! And we’re not even inside!”

Wolfgang smiles, putting an arm around her as they approach the doors.

“This club is fucking swanky,” says Felix behind them. “I should buy _this_ place. New fucking favorite.” He raises his voice to yell after Kala and Wolfgang. “Are you two going to ignore us all night?”

The don’t reply, but smirk gently at each other as they pass through large metal doors and approach a bouncer -- a huge, tattooed man with a nightstick.

“Bogdanow,” says Wolfgang as they pass him, and he nods seriously and stops looking through a list of names.

Kala raises her eyebrows gently at her boyfriend. “It doesn’t seem fair that you reap the benefits of being a mobster if you aren’t one anymore.”

He grins, hand trailing low on her back as he guides her along the crowd.

“How will the others get in?” she asks.

“Felix,” he explains.

Kala shakes her head, amused, and walks with him towards the bar. The music is layered, fast and slow, and the bass feels like a collective heartbeat; it shakes the floor and seems to distort the air itself. Kala presses closer to Wolfgang, shy in the new environment, and is thankful when they reach the bar.

Wolfgang asks for some vodka and Kala orders a sidecar. As she’s reaching for her drink, she notices a young woman approach the bar and shamelessly slide her hand up Wolfgang’s arm. Kala freezes, her fingers clenching the slender stem of her glass, and she stares. Wolfgang says _sorry_ quietly to the woman and puts an arm around Kala’s waist, and Kala glares relentlessly until the woman walks away, rolling her eyes.

“ _Sorry_?” Kala demands.

Wolfgang squeezes her waist. “She didn’t know.”

“I was standing _right_ here,” argues Kala, sipping her drink, vexed.

“The bar is packed, babe,” Wolfgang points out.

Kala huffs, peering at the other women nearby, eyes narrowed. Wolfgang wrinkles his brow, experiencing an electric current of jealousy which can only belong to Kala. He notices that her knuckles are white around her glass.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, surprised. “That was nothing.”

“I may not be familiar with clubs,” says Kala, voice slightly higher than usual, eyes slightly brighter. “But I know how people communicate. And that was not nothing. That was an invitation."

Wolfgang, who has convinced women to come over with a single glance, knows she’s right.

“But I’m here with you,” he says softly. “I just want you.”

Kala’s expression remains tense and cautious. Wolfgang watches her, careful not to smile; he’s never seen her so jealous and if he’s honest, he likes it.

He gently lifts her chin. “Kala, just you,” he insists. He kisses her. “Just you.”

Kala slowly nods, sipping her drink. Then she runs her hand through her hair and covers her mouth, laughing at herself.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I know better.”

“C’mere, dance with me,” he says, finishing his drink.

She finishes hers and then he takes her hand and leads her out to the dance floor, which is flooded with dark purple light. Kala feels like she’s sinking in an ocean, the light barely touching her shoulders, and fading well before it can reach the floor. She presses close to Wolfgang so she isn’t jostled by other dancers, and he smirks at her and pulls her against him, hands on her ass. She smiles indulgently as they dance together.

She’s never danced to music like this -- no lyrics, a deafening, drumbeat bass -- but her body finds the patterns and Wolfgang steps back to watch her, impressed. She smiles, heat flooding her cheeks from the intensity of his gaze. He pulls her in after a moment, sliding his hands down the front of her body, pausing to squeeze her breasts. She breathes out, wetting her lips, eyes huge, dark, reflecting the swirling lights.

“Put your hands over your head,” he says into her ear, moving his hands back to her ass.

She feels heat rise in her cheeks again, sweat beading along her hairline; the club is hot, bodies close all around her, and Wolfgang’s hands aren’t helping matters.

“Why?” she murmurs.

“That’s how you dance in a club,” he chuckles, adding with a smirk and a stolen glance down her neckline, “and, better view.”

Kala runs her hands through his hair, touching her nose to his. “Okay, but you have to dance with me for a moment first…”

He slides his hands up her back, and then he turns her and pulls her against him from behind, holding her hips, moving with her. She breathes in and blinks in surprise when she feels that he’s hard. Then she drapes her head against him and he lets his hands find her breasts again.

Suddenly she understands the appeal of the darkness.

She closes her eyes, immersed in the music, her pulse mirroring the pace and intensity. Wolfgang slides his hands down, studying her ribs under his fingers, pausing on her hips. He’s only ever come to a club looking for someone new, but as Kala arches her back and smiles at his touch, he sees what he was missing.

He kisses the back of her neck, slightly rougher than usual, and she growls softly in approval, head falling back further on his shoulder, face upturned in the lights which swoop and vanish like strange sparrows. He grips her closer, closing his eyes, underwater with her, alone with her in the moment.

She loses her sense of time and returns to reality only when she realizes she’s desperately thirsty. She turns her head up, kisses Wolfgang’s jaw, and gently untangles herself from him.

“I’m getting something to drink,” she whispers on his mouth, squeezing his hands. “Want anything?”

He smiles and shakes his head. She nods and he pushes her gently towards the bar, watching her hips sway as she fades from sight.

She orders some water and another sidecar and catches a glimpse of Felix dancing with two girls, only for Dani to swoop in, take one of the girls by the arm, and slip away, winking. Kala smiles and fans herself as she waits for her drink, looking around the club, readjusting; already, she’s sore from dancing, and she notices - with a sudden, surprised blush - how wet she is between her legs. She supposes this is part of the appeal of dancing like that, so when they finally reach home, they’re wild and desperate, rough and impatient. She blushes darker at the thought, takes her drink with a soft thank you, and sits on a bar stool, neatly crossing her legs and ignoring the heat pooling low in her belly.

Then, as she takes a first sip, she notices a group of women at the bar point out Wolfgang in the crowd and giggle obnoxiously.

“Isn’t that…?” one trails off.

“It _is_ ,” says her friend, gasping.

“Do you think he’s…?”

“Alone? Of course…” The woman clicks her rings on her glass, biting her bottom lip, and then looks at her friend and laughs. “How do we decide who gets him?”

Kala takes a big sip of her sidecar.

“I’ve heard he’s brought home two girls before…”

“Ew, I’m not having a threesome with _you_ , Mila, we’re _roommates_.”

Kala looks sidelong at the other women, eyes hard, brows wrinkled in hostility. They pause, then inch away from her.

“ _Someone_ got rejected,” the first woman jokes as they walk into the crowd.

Kala sips her drink; the slim fingers of her free hand are iron-like, nails digging into her palm, leaving bloodless imprints. She looks into the crowd, finding Wolfgang, only to notice a new woman touch his shoulder, then wiggle her finger at him, asking him to follow her into a hallway nearby. Kala’s eyes widen in disbelief. _Is everyone here a slut?_ Then she frowns at herself for the judgemental question.

But then, she notices that the woman has started to dance in front of Wolfgang, undeterred. Cold blood rises in Kala’s chest. She knows how senseless her jealousy is; she knows Wolfgang was telling the truth earlier. But those facts fall apart in the face of her feelings.

She finishes her drink, sets the glass down hard, and gets to her feet. She parts the crowd with her combative gaze, a hurricane disguised as a woman.

She reaches Wolfgang and surprises herself when she shoves the other woman away.

“Excuse me,” she snarls, putting her arms around Wolfgang’s neck.

The girl is about to confront Kala, but Wolfgang smirks and says, “I wouldn’t.”

Kala turns and looks at the woman, who is attractive, wearing nearly nothing, sneering. Kala raises an eyebrow, the woman hesitates, and then she leaves.

“That was hot,” Wolfgang murmurs after a moment.

Kala wrinkles her nose, wild with agitation, hair flying.

Wolfgang shakes his head, not bothering to hide his satisfaction now. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not _jealous_ ,” says Kala, but her eyes say otherwise.

Wolfgang tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “You are, you’re jealous.”

“Why do you look so pleased?” she snaps.

“You want me, you care about this,” he replies, running his hands down her back and urging her close again.

Kala shakes her head, unsettled and angry at herself for the depth of her emotion. She considers the possibility that she was lying to herself when she told Felix the past doesn’t make her jealous, and thinks back to the moments she used to catch Wolfgang in, moments _she_ should have been sharing with him. She sniffles suddenly -- angry with herself anew for having two drinks when she was already feeling vulnerable -- and looks up at him with wet, hurt eyes.

His amused expression vanishes instantly and he holds her closer.

“Kala, hey, I’m sorry,” he says carefully, thumbing over her shoulders. “I didn’t realize.”

She breathes out and hesitantly puts her arms around his neck.

“Babe,” he murmurs, hugging her, “why would I want another woman?”

She sniffles, then looks at him with a glassy, fervent gaze, searching for a response. She knows -- _knows_ \-- that he only wants her. But in the moment, knowledge doesn’t stand up to emotion, and she simply presses closer.

Then she murmurs, voice suddenly husky with desire, “Show me.”

Wolfgang meets her gaze, holding still.

“Show me,” she repeats, all breath.

They stare at each other for a fraction of a second before Wolfgang pulls Kala at an insistent pace after him, out of the crowd, down a hallway lined with restrooms. His intentions click in her mind -- _oh_ \-- and she barely has time to take a breath before he’s opened one of the doors, pushed her inside, and locked them in. She looks around the small space -- it’s painted vividly, abstract art and graffiti, a concrete floor -- and is abruptly transported to the bathroom she found herself in with him not long ago, when he simply took her hand, an unspoken half-goodbye.

But his gaze reminds her that they never said goodbye and that neither of them ever could have. It’s uncompromising, heated, and only for her.

He grips her waist and shoves her against the wall, kissing her hard. She melts into the painted concrete behind her, breath stopped by the intensity of the kiss, and puts her arms around him, returning the kiss as energetically as she can. He takes her hands and pins them over her head and she gives a shallow gasp, surprised; he trails his fingertips down each arm, then over her breasts, just as he presses his mouth to her neck and leaves a pattern of rough, wet kisses.

“Oh, oh, yes,” she mumbles, shutting her eyes.

She drops her arms so she can tangle her fingers in his hair, then slowly steps out of her shoes, suddenly small next to him. He moves his mouth to hers once again, gliding his tongue along her bottom lip, slow, barely inside; she opens her mouth, just as slow, and he kisses her deeply, hands moving up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress.

She pulls back to look at him, chest rising and falling to the beat of the distant music, the base a steady drip of water, filling her up, threatening to spill. She doesn’t breathe. She can’t. He kisses her neck, collarbone, shoulder. Slower, pausing to look into her eyes, to communicate who she is to him. Somehow, she’s sure he won’t speak all night and will rely on touch alone, and she forces herself to draw a breath, preparing; he almost always talks to her while they make love and it gives her space, opportunities to breathe; somehow she’s sure that tonight, he won’t give her that.

He takes her face in his hands and tilts it up, pressing a messy kiss to her mouth, then moves again to her neck; this time, he gently bites her and she arches her spine on instinct, head falling back, and it’s as if he’s holding her up at a cliff edge; as if her hair is kissing the empty sky underneath her.

He moves his hands again to her thighs, bracing her against the wall as he pushes her dress up so it pools around her waist. He kisses her while he tugs a pair of orange lace panties down her legs, leaving it between her knees. Then he slides his hand between her thighs; he groans quietly when he feels how slick she is, pressing her harder against the wall, kissing her unrelentingly. He slips two fingers inside of her and she clenches her fingers in his shirt, trying to hold on. Then he skims his thumb over her clit and she lets her head fall back again, lets herself moan like she’s wanted to since he first pushed her against the wall.

The sound echoes in the small room and Wolfgang takes a steadying breath - nothing makes him want her more than the noises she makes when they’re together.

He kisses her more gently now and she sinks in the sounds - his breath, the faint swish of his fingers inside of her, her own soft cries, the music which seems to grow more distant by the second.

“W-Wolfgang,” she falters.

He touches her more softly, pulling back. Then he undoes the clasp on the back of her dress and peels the fabric away from her body, exposing her breasts. He takes a moment to lightly squeeze each of them and thumb over her nipples. She isn’t sure if it’s the roughness of his hands or her own sensitivity, but this gesture has always made her knees go weak. She kisses him while he touches her; then she looks down, watching in the dim light as he pushes her breasts together and squeezes each of her nipples hard, bringing on a shiver.

She looks up at him, finally breathing, sure her eyes are the size of stars.

“Wolfgang,” she whines, almost inaudible.

He smiles very faintly, then grips her closer by her lower back and kisses her in between her breasts. Her breath catches, and then she grins, overwhelmed, as he laps gently over one of her nipples, peppers kisses downward, leaves a mark on her ribcage; he follows the same pattern on her other side, coming eventually to his knees and kissing her belly-button. She expects him to put one of her legs over his shoulder; she expects thigh kisses. But he surprises her, getting to his feet and picking her up, her legs around his waist.

He sets her on the counter nearby, pulling her panties down from her knees and throwing them aside. He pushes her legs open, then kneels in front of her again, and pulls her to the very edge of the counter.

On a normal night, he would tease her with kisses, but tonight every movement he makes is deliberate and urgent. He pulls her roughly against him and licks a slow stripe between her folds, groaning into her, taking his time on her clit when he reaches it. Kala, shaken by the sensation in a way she never has been, rests her legs on his shoulders and lightly crosses her ankles. She breathes out, half-sobbing, then leans slowly back on the counter.

The cold marble sends a tremble down her spine and she extends her hands over her head, letting them rest in the cool porcelain sink, fingers reaching for something to hold onto, finding nothing. Wolfgang focuses on her entrance, on tasting her, and only flicks at her clit occasionally, aware how close she is.

She moans loudly after a moment, lost to the world, her toes twitching in pleasure. The music is gone as she arches against the counter, desperate for air. He pulls away just before she would have come, not to tease her, but because he knows how she wants to come tonight and he wouldn’t deprive her of that.

He kisses her inner thighs, sucking marks on her skin as he works down to her knees. He coaxes her to sit up and kisses her; she moans faintly, tasting herself on his lips, dizzy. Then her hands jump to his belt and she unbuckles it.

“Kiss me,” she murmurs as she frees his cock from his jeans.

He nods as he slides into her; she breathes in, needy, but he stops her breath with a kiss.

She digs her fingers into his shoulders as he drives into her, following his movements, rocking closer to him with each thrust. She’s hot and slick around him, a constant string of _more, please, please_ , and he holds her close, kissing her neck. She opens her legs more widely, an attempt to be closer, and he suddenly grips her hips, ramming into her hard enough that she whimpers in surprise.

After a few moments, she moans his name, nails deeper in his shoulders. She wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, asking for complete closeness while she comes.

She tangles her fingers in his hair, suspended in white noise.

“Oh God, Wolfgang, Wolfgang, oh my God,” she whispers as they come together, trailing off with a gentle but deeply serious, “I love you, oh, I love you.”

She lets her legs relax, drenched and panting; they catch their breaths together for a moment. Then he runs his hands through her hair and down her back, and she smiles softly, sated and alive with sensation.

The reality comes later. _We had sex in a bathroom._ _On a counter._ For now, Kala focuses only on his closeness as he hugs her.

“I love you too,” he mumbles and she kisses him softly, taking her fingers through his hair. “Just you,” he adds as she pulls away. “Always you.”

She breathes in hard, nodding. They kiss again, then take another moment to come down, touching foreheads. Finally, Kala slides off the counter; Wolfgang helps her put her dress back on; she finds her panties and shoes near the door and puts them back on, laughing; he checks that his belt is buckled.

Then they look at each other, transfixed. They both smile gently, laughing, and take hands before walking into the hallway.

Then they slip out of the club without a word to their friends, rejoicing in the chilly night air as they walk home.


	15. August 8, 10:05 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cluster drives to the German countryside for their birthday. Kala and Wolfgang grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang has an antagonistic relationship with technology and speed limits (written in kilometers, FYI.)

Kala combs her fingers through her hair, lingering in a pool of sunlight in the kitchen, waiting for Wolfgang to find his keys. They woke up before their friends, who stayed at the club much later and wandered Berlin until early morning, eating pizza.

 “Have you found them yet?” she calls into the living room.

He responds with a mumbled _fuck this_ and she smiles.

“Apparently not,” she says.

She looks out the kitchen window at the street where Felix, Lito, Hernando, Dani, Nomi, and Amanita are waiting. The rest of their Cluster, visiting for their birthday, is nearby, surrounding two nice rental cars. On Lito’s urging, everyone agreed to go to a small resort in the countryside for their birthday, and now, everyone is waiting on Wolfgang and Kala.

Felix gestures hopelessly at Kala through the window. She shrugs, then stretches to touch her toes, swaying in the sun, letting her eyelids slip shut.  

“Did you look in your pocket?” she murmurs after a moment.

“Of course I--” He stops himself, then sighs. “Got them.”

Kala grins, putting her bag on her shoulder and walking out to meet him in the living room. He holds the keys up, laughing at himself, and she shakes her head affectionately.

“All that electricity killed some brain cells,” he jokes.

“Oh, honey,” she sighs.

“This is where you’re supposed to reassure me,” he goes on, taking her hand as they leave the apartment.

She smiles and squeezes his hand. “Your brain cells are perfectly fine.” 

He nods. “Thank you.”

“Do you believe me?” she asks.

“Not even a little,” he says, and they both laugh.

He locks the door, and they start down the hall. But then he stops, pulling her close. She smiles up at him, eyes bright with excitement, then stretches on her toes to kiss him.

“Happy birthday,” she murmurs.

He grins. “Happy birthday.”

They hold each other for another moment, touching noses and swaying on the spot while they look at each other. Then they hear Felix shout from the street to hurry, so Kala takes Wolfgang’s hand and leads him out of the building.

Everyone hugs them hello, jostling cups of coffee and bagels, and they all wish each other a happy birthday. Then Felix gestures at Wolfgang’s keys.

“Jacket pocket?” he asks.

“Fuck off,” replies Wolfgang, adding with a glance at Felix’s huge coffee, “you look like shit.”

“Fucking ridiculous night, you two missed out,” he says, gulping his coffee. “Someone else has to drive, though, I might still be drunk.”

Hernando blinks in the sunlight, wrinkling his nose. “Yes, that makes two of us.”

Lito chuckles and rubs Hernando’s shoulders.

“Three,” sighs Dani, her hair falling out of a messy bun, eyeliner smudged.

Amanita grins, throwing a few of her dreads over her shoulder. “Noms and I chickened out after the sixth round.”

“We’re getting old,” says Nomi, laughing. “By the way. _Love_ Berlin. We walked back to the hotel last night at three--”

“Not a _single_ creepy stalker or catcaller,” finishes Amanita, adding to Wolfgang, “I’m starting to think you exaggerated how dangerous Berlin is.”

“It’s not dangerous if you’re not a reckless dumbass with mob connections,” murmurs Felix.

Lito claps his hands together suddenly. “Alright! What is the plan?” He glances over at the rental cars, and Capheus grins at him, jingling his keys in the air. “We have...two cars, eleven people.”

“Three cars,” says Wolfgang, glancing at his slate-grey BMW, nudging Kala towards it, adding to Lito, “and now you only have nine people to fit in the other two.” 

“You two are the fucking worst,” sighs Felix, looking at the others for support. “You never hang out with us anymore! Last night, you didn’t even drink with us! Where were you, anyway?” He pauses, frowning. “Don’t want to know.” Then he turns to Kala and gestures at the BMW. “Have I told you he can’t drive?” He looks at Wolfgang. “Don’t kill your new girlfriend."

“At least I’m not still drunk,” replies Wolfgang, turning to follow Kala to his car. 

“Do you have the directions?” Lito calls after them.

“I have an old map,” says Wolfgang, grinning, satisfied how annoying he’s being.

Kala rolls her eyes. “We have phones, thank you Lito! We’ll see you there!”

She gets into the passenger’s seat, glancing around the dark interior of the car, smiling gently at Wolfgang as he gets in.

“The last time I was in this car with you...we kissed for the first time,” she murmurs.

He watches her for a moment, hands loose on the steering wheel, and suddenly recalls the feeling of her hand on his wrist, grip tight and desperate, trying to stop him as he reached for his gun in the glove compartment. He remembers how her eyes were bright with terror, how her chin trembled when he said _there are worse things than dying_ , how she swallowed a sob when he thumbed over her bottom lip. He tasted the salt from her tears when he kissed her, which only made him more certain that what he was about to do was right; he couldn’t hurt her any more than he already had.

She recalls the conviction in his eyes -- distant, unnervingly steady, the color and depth of a winter ocean. She was sure he would die, and she remembers desperately memorizing his face so she would have an image when he was gone.

They look at each other in the car now, safe together, but their expressions are an echo of the moment they shared nearly two years ago.

“You said…” she whispers, reaching instinctively for his hands, “some things in life are inevitable. 

He nods, watching her intently, thumbing over her palm.

She sniffles and shrugs softly. “You were right.” She looks up, smiling. “This was inevitable. We both tried so hard not to be together, but the universe...wanted us to be.”

“I don’t know about the universe,” he says gently. “But I know about us.”

She lifts her hands, cradling his face, fingertips soft on his jawbones.

“We were just stubborn,” he goes on with a smile.

She smiles too. “Believe what you like.” She cards her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer. “I believe in the universe. And I believe I was right, too. Ganesha did send you to me.”

“I don’t think Ganesha should have trusted me,” he says, gently grinning. “I’m an...unreliable vessel for the Gods.”

She grins too, but she shakes her head. “No. It would have been too easy for me to deny the truth about us if you weren’t so...troublesome.”

He wrinkles his brow. “Why is that?”

“Because, imagine if you were a nice man--”

He tips his head down, laughing. She realizes what this sounded like and giggles quietly.

“You are a nice man,” she whispers. “I love you. But you don’t treat me the way other men have. You don’t lie to me to comfort me, you don’t lie about yourself. It would have been...easier to fall in love with you if you did those things, but if you had...I would never have chosen you because it would have been so simple to say to myself... _of course you love him, he’s so easy to love_.” She pauses, thinking. “You were not easy to love, and I loved you. I loved you despite everything, which meant...I could never deny that what we had was real.”

He watches her for a moment, and then he leans forward and kisses her gently.

“I understand,” he says.

She smiles, nuzzling his nose with her own. He tucks her hair behind her ears and kisses her again, then squeezes her hands.

“We should drive before the others get ahead of us,” she says quietly.

He nods, but he takes another moment, thumbing over one of her eyebrows. He eventually looks down, shaking his head.

“I love you so much,” he says seriously.

She kisses him again. “I love you, too.”

He keeps shaking his head. “Spent so long talking myself out of this feeling so you wouldn’t get hurt, but I could never get it to go away. I tried everything I could think of, drinking, fighting, sleeping...I looked for distractions everywhere but none of them worked. I still woke up with you on my mind.” He shrugs. “Sometimes I’m surprised it took me as long as it did to give in. I wanted you every day.”

Kala nods, eyes full of warmth. “But you wanted me to be happy more than you wanted me.”

“Finally realized you couldn’t be happy without me,” he replies.

She nods again, but this time, a crease has touched her brows. “Why did you realize that?”

“Because I knew I couldn’t be happy without you,” he says. “And I knew I couldn’t feel that way if you didn’t feel that way.”

She smiles, and after a moment, she breathes out and shakes her head gently. “Why did it take us so long?”

“We were scared,” he mumbles.

She nods, then murmurs, “We’re not scared anymore.”

He nods in response, kissing her a final time before sticking the key in the ignition.

She leans back in her seat, watching as he puts on some dark sunglasses. He reaches into the glovebox for some cigarettes, lights one and hangs his hand lightly out of the window.

Then he punches the gas. Kala bites her bottom lip, tucking her legs into a pretzel shape, and sips her coffee to soothe herself. She’s concerned that Felix was telling the truth about Wolfgang’s driving.

“How far away is this place?” she asks after a moment.

“Couple of hours,” he says.

She opens the glove compartment and pulls out the old, water-stained map. “Wolfgang.”

“Kala,” he says, sensing a jab.

“Why do you have this?” she asks. “It’s ancient…”

“I like maps,” he says defensively.

“But...you have a phone,” she points out. 

“Which I hate,” he replies. “I grew up with one phone in the house and it was for emergencies. I never had to talk to anyone.”

Kala giggles, then says in a grumpy old voice, “Back in my day…”

He smacks the side of her leg lightly. “Shut up, babe.”

She grins. “You may not like your phone, but how would you have found all your Tinder girls?”

He smirks, then takes a drag off his cigarette. “I deleted that.” He frowns. “Well, I will. As soon as I figure out how.”

Kala stares at him. “You _cannot_ be serious. You know how to disable the world’s most complex safes, but you can’t uninstall an app?”

“I’ve never had to before,” he says cautiously. 

“You’ve never had to?” she asks in disbelief. “Don’t you run out of storage space and…?” She trails off, trying to picture Wolfgang taking photos and using up his storage. Then she begins to laugh, picturing him navigating the world of social media. “Wait. So you _still_ have the app?”

He hesitates. “Yes.”

“So I can see your profile?” she goes on.

He stares at her. “You _definitely_ can’t.”

She grins and steals his phone off of the center console. “Oh, I’m _definitely_ going to.”

He shakes his head, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “I’m going to kill Felix. He talked me into this.”

Kala swipes Wolfgang’s phone open. “You don’t even have this password protected? You are _literally_ a thief and you don’t have your phone password protected?” She shakes her head affectionately and opens the app. Then she raises her eyebrows. “Oh my goodness, who took that photo?”

“Felix did,” says Wolfgang.

“Oh,” sighs Kala. “You’re so handsome. If I was single and living in Berlin and far less principled I would have gone out with you on appearances alone.” Then she giggles, looking at the profile. " _My friend made me sign up for this_. That’s what you went with?”

“Babe, you know I can’t talk about myself,” he replies. “And it’s the truth.”

“Oh, you could have said anything else…loves to read...excellent kickboxer...fearless at fußball…”

“When you describe yourself, that leaves the impression you’re looking for a relationship,” he tells her. “I didn’t want to leave that impression.”

“Hm, then why not be more creative?” she teases. “Why not say... _I’m not the kind of man you would introduce your mother to, so don’t get your hopes up_? Ooh, _or_ , you could have said _the best you’ll ever have, dot dot dot, one-night maximum._

He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s hard to strike the right balance.” Then he raises an eyebrow at her. “The best you’ll ever have? Would you go out with a man who opens with that? Hi, nice to meet you, by the way, I’m the best you’ll ever have?”

“I imagine many girls _did_ feel that way,” she snips, smirking. “Felix told me you had a bit of a reputation for that.”

“I can’t leave you two alone. What else has he told you?”

“He told me you had a crush on your kindergarten teacher and you brought her an orange and a card that Christmas. Which I found to be exceptionally cute.”

“Fucking hell,” he mumbles.

She blushes suddenly, looking at the profile. “I like to think you would have treated me slightly more respectfully than your other dates if you picked _me_ up on Tinder.”

“I would have fallen in love with you on the spot, so yes,” he replies, merging onto the Autobahn and tapping his cigarette so the ash falls out the window.

She smiles at this, leaning to kiss his cheek. “Good answer.” She taps her finger on the display and uninstalls the app. “All gone.” Then she glances at him. “We’re taking pictures on this trip.”

“No we aren’t,” he replies.

“Oh, yes we are,” she says. “I want pictures of you. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Why do you need pictures?” he asks.

“I like pictures,” she says gently. “I would love to have a record of us as a couple. And I would love to have some particularly embarrassing pictures of you. For blackmail purposes.”

He grins and tosses his cigarette. “There’s the dark streak I love.”

She beams at him, reaching to take his free hand. She keeps smiling, watching him, and he glances at her, frowning slightly.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she admits. “I just want to stare at you.”

He chuckles, entwining their fingers.

“I’m in love with you,” she goes on. “I could look at you all day.”

He smiles, turning slightly pink. “I could look at you all day, too.”

“But you won’t, because your driving is bad enough,” she says, nose wrinkling in humor.

He grins. “Exactly. You should drive on the way back, only fair.”

“Oh, I would, but I never learned,” she murmurs.

He looks back at her, half of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You can’t drive?”

She shrugs. “I never learned. Our home was close to everywhere I needed to go, and I was so busy studying when I was young that I chose to focus on that rather than learn to drive. Although, once when Daya was learning, she let me drive and I drove into a stand of papayas.”

Wolfgang grins. “Oh, fuck, babe. Did you get in trouble?”

Kala hesitates. “I...may have blamed Daya, but it was for her own good because she would have had to retake her course if they found out she let me drive. But she was very upset with me because after that, my father drove everywhere with her until she was given her license. And she had a new boyfriend who she was trying to impress, and the constant presence of our father was...not exactly an aphrodisiac.”

“No,” laughs Wolfgang, and after a moment, he adds, “do you think they’ll like me?”

“My family?” she asks softly. She smiles. “Oh, yes. They will, eventually. They’ll warm to you.” She takes a sip of her coffee and slides her fingertips over his palm as she thinks. “They loved Rajan. I’ve...never seen my parents happier than when I married Rajan. But they want me to be happy, and when they see how happy you make me...well, they’ll love you.”

He nods.

“They may be...slightly surprised that you are German…” she adds carefully.

He raises an eyebrow. “Not as surprised as my family would have been if they met you.”

She raises her eyebrows, gentle and curious. “Were they racist?”

“Not my mother, everyone else was,” he replies. “They were concerned about nationality, I think...but that’s…” He gestures around the steering wheel, searching for the word. “That’s racialized, especially with Russians, all the anti-immigration bullshit.” He shrugs. “And they didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t a Bogdanow. Steiner beat up Felix once because he thought we were spending too much time together.”

Kala smiles sadly. “Poor Felix. Was it terrible?”

“Just a broken nose, and he was used to it,” says Wolfgang quietly.

Kala frowns. “His parents hit him?” 

“No, my father, whenever he came over at the wrong time. Usually to help me get out for the night or take me to a doctor.

Kala nods, brow fluttering in concern. She turns her attention to the dark pines that line both sides of the road, the edge of city limits.

“You met in detention?” she murmurs after a moment, the sunlight filtering through the trees outside, casting spots and splotches over the car.

Wolfgang nods. “I was in for fighting, he was in because he…” He trails off, laughing. “He drew a dick on the chalkboard. And when the teacher told him to erase it, he drew another one.”

Kala nods, unsurprised. “Of course he did.”

“He lived in detention,” Wolfgang goes on. “He liked it better, he had his cigarettes and his cards, and I liked it better too once I met him. We’d get in trouble on purpose and play cards all day.”

“Who were you fighting that day?” she asks.

“The usual, the kids who hated communists,” he replies.

“Was your family communist?” she wonders. “Did they take it seriously?”

He shakes his head, glancing at a road sign and taking an exit. “No, the system changes for criminals. It becomes less about the ideology or the religion or any other principle.” He shrugs. “Money’s the principle.”

“Then no, not communist,” she says with a distant smile.

He shrugs. “Any hierarchy’s about money. Even communism.” He reaches for his coffee and takes a drink. “But no, they weren’t, and they weren’t religious either, except for my grandfather, Russian Orthodox.” He shakes his head. “My grandfather was able to justify everything he did through the Church, he was even more stupid than my father.”

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Kala says softly.

He shakes his head. “It’s alright. I wanted to ask you about religion actually.”

“Oh?” she says as they merge onto a new highway, the traffic rushing in her ears again.

He nods, glancing at her. “Does it bother you that I don’t believe what you do?”

She immediately shakes her head. “No. Belief is personal.”

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

She nods. “Yes. Though I would be interested to know what you believe.”

He thinks for a moment, searching for the words. “I believe in something bigger,” he says quietly. “No Gods, no interference on earth. But some kind of order. Is that too vague?"

She smiles. “Vague is alright with belief.”

He shrugs. “I can’t believe in a...good God, who changes things on earth...not after…”

She nods, squeezing his arm. But he shakes his head.

“Not BPO,” he says quietly. “After…”

Sometimes, he struggles to say the words. _My father_. She nods, heart painfully tight.

“Maybe God’s good, or the universe is, but it’s somehow separate from what humans experience,” he goes on, even more quietly.

“Why do you believe as much as you do?” she asks.

“Because of you,” he says without pause.

She stares, breath catching. “What?”

“Because I met you,” he says seriously. “Everything changed when I met you, and I don’t have...” He shrugs and spreads his fingers wide on the steering wheel, as if grasping. “I don’t have an explanation for it. I know the...the biology, I listened to all of Jonas’s bullshit, but...it’s never been enough to explain...how I feel and who you are to me. It’s...beyond loving you, it’s…”

“A kind of miracle,” she finishes softly.

He nods, and then he grips her hand, as if afraid she’ll melt away. She breathes in to steady herself, sensing that some details remain unrevealed, still too painful to express in words.

“I love Felix,” he says, “and I know how he feels, but no one’s ever loved me like you.”

She nods, wishing they weren’t driving, wanting to hug him. She wonders if he’s speaking so openly because she can’t comfort him; she wonders when he won’t feel weak for needing consolation.

“No one’s ever...understood what happened, not the way you do,” he goes on.

She watches him for a moment, and then bursts out, “Wolfgang, I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that killing those men was right.”

He glances at her, surprised.

“You’ve doubted yourself enough,”’ she murmurs. “You hated yourself because you never felt guilty. But you were right to do what you did, and you were right to be remorseless.” She sniffles feebly. “They were evil men, and you were given no choice.”

He nods after a moment.

“And what you did,” she goes on. “It doesn’t define you. This does. How you treat me, our family…” She sniffles again. “Do you know why I love you?”

He looks at her again, overwhelmed.

“I love you because...the way you love someone...you love so intensely, and so purely.” She tangles her fingers in his, squeezing gently. “You’ve made me feel so sure, and I…” She wipes her eyes and laughs at herself. “Well, I never feel sure. But I feel sure with you.”

“You think too much,” he agrees with a smile.

“So do you,” she replies softly.

“Not when I’m with you,” he tells her and she smiles.

“Not when I’m with you,” she repeats.

They look at each other for a moment, playing with each other’s fingers. Then Kala smiles, nudging Wolfgang’s attention back to the road.

She looks out the window at the bright green trees and the roadside flowers subsisting in the sandy soil, sleepy from the drive. He grips the steering wheel, overcome by her warmth. Her presence in his life is so difficult to believe that sometimes his belief is tenuous; sometimes he wants to hold her to be assured she exists.

She feels his unease, so she takes his free hand and gives it a squeeze; she feels sure that he’ll hold her closer than usual while they fall asleep together tonight.

They drive in silence for nearly an hour, filling the space with touches and quick smiles. By the time they reach the forested, lake-dotted countryside, Kala has taken off her shoes and let her hair down. She’s leaned her seat back, reading a medical journal and occasionally describing new technologies to Wolfgang. He asks her to look at the map as they near Heiligengrabe and she unfolds the dusty thing with a slight frown, then sets it gently in the backseat and looks at her phone.

“Cheating,” he murmurs.

“21st Century,” she says in response.

He smiles and shakes his head and she quickly pats his arm and gestures at an upcoming exit. He veers into the exit lane without checking over his shoulder and she breathes out, hair standing on end. 

“You _are_ a terrible driver,” she tells him softly.

He nods. “I know. How far are we?”

“Half an hour,” she says, adding, “have you been here before?”

He shakes his head. “We trusted Lito.”

“Should we have?” she mumbles, and Lito’s indignant voice enters her mind: _I found a lakeside resort, with fireplaces and a gourmet breakfast_. She laughs at herself, glancing at Wolfgang. “Is it terrible I only want to see you today? You know I love them all, but…”

He shakes his head. “I just want to see you, too.”

She smiles and nods, then breathes out and shakes her head softly. “We have the time and the space to be together now. It’s...intoxicating.”

He nods in agreement as the Autobahn winds through open land, distant fields all shades of blue and grey beyond the road, interrupted by outcroppings of stone and gatherings of sheep. Kala presses closer to the window, tracking a crow with her eyes as it flies parallel to the car. Wolfgang glances over his shoulder, and finding the road open, presses his foot steadily to the gas. Kala looks at him in alarm.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Scaring my new girlfriend,” he replies.

Kala’s eyes widen as the car accelerates, but then she hears Capheus speak in her mind. _I’ll take over when he makes a mistake_. She wishes he used the word _if_ rather than _when_ but she still feels reassured.

“Oh, too fast,” she says breathily, digging her nails into her palms and staring ahead as the car gains speed.

He grins, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, and Kala laughs wildly, throwing her hands over her face.

“Slow down! Wolfgang, oh my God!”

The tires whine on the pavement, swerving, and he grins wider, yelling in victory.

“Oh, I hate you, I hate you!” she cries, squealing when the car jostles over a rough patch in the pavement.

“Fuck yeah!” he says, watching the gauge on his dash hit 160.

He slows down, but not in time for a slight curve in the roadway, and the car spins out on the shoulder of the road and comes to an abrupt stop.

“Ow,” murmurs Kala, rubbing her hands over her chest, which took the impact of the seatbelt.

“Are you alright?” he asks, leaning over, concerned though exhilarated.

“Yes,” she says, though she says _ow_  once more. “You?”

He nods, laughing. Then he glances in the rearview and sees the car has slid onto a soft, boggy shoulder.

“Kala?” he asks softly. “Help me push the car onto the road?”

She glares at him, hair frizzy and mussed with anxiety. Then Capheus appears in the backseat and pats Wolfgang’s shoulder.

“I will help her,” he says.

“Thank you,” says Kala, adding, “I thought you said you would make sure he didn’t make a mistake.”

“Oh, I did,” says Capheus cheerfully. “I was the one who made sure the car didn’t go _completely_ off the road.”

Kala looks at Wolfgang, who gives her a winning smile, and she rolls her eyes.

After ten minutes of sweat and swearing, the car is on the road and they’re driving towards the resort of Lito’s choice.

“Back massage,” says Kala as they near the town. “You owe me a back massage.”


	16. August 8, 1:17 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cluster goes swimming.

A champagne cork flies into the air and creamy bubbles pour over Lito’s fist. The group cheers and laughs, dropping their bags and settling into the large den in Lito and Hernando’s room.

Though Lito said they were celebrating at a resort, the property is more like a villa -- many separate, beautiful rooms, with individual pools and views of the lake, which is surrounded by miles of gardens and walking paths.

“Ay, salud!” says Dani cheerfully, distributing glasses of champagne. “I may not know most of you well, but _feliz cumpleaños_ , I am so happy you’re all safe. Though, weirdest car ride ever, Lito had a conversation with the air for like...two hours.”

“I was catching up with Sun,” laughs Lito.

“Next time, we can have a _sapien_ car and a _sensorium_ car,” jokes Amanita, though she smiles. “I’m used to Noms, at this point. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Seriously doubt that,” Felix tells her, taking some champagne from Dani. “I’m still wrapping my head around that shit,” he adds, gesturing at Kala and Wolfgang, who are smiling silently at each other and holding hands. Felix snaps his fingers at them, but they don’t notice. He shakes his head. “Lovebirds.”

“At least you’re not the only _sapien_ here,” Dani reminds him.

He groans. “Fuck, can you imagine?”

After celebrating late into the night on the 7th, no one is in the mood for a wild party, so rather than blare EDM and pour mixed drinks, the group changes into swimsuits and cover-ups, takes their champagne outside into the mild afternoon sun, and all wander through the gardens, chatting, laughing, bursting into choruses of _Happy Birthday_ as the day goes on, as the champagne disappears. They make their way slowly to the edge of the lake, which is cerulean blue, curling onto the pebbly shore in gentle, foamy waves. The gardens extend all the way to the shore, fragrant bushes falling over the embankment, flowers floating on the surface of the lake. There is a short pier with several sunbathing chairs.

“Ooh,” murmurs Dani, and then she yells, “Last one there has to jump in the lake!” and takes off towards the pier at a run.

Lito throws his head back, laughing, then takes off his shirt. He balls it up and offers it to Hernando, then follows Dani. Nomi shrugs at Amanita and they sprint too, followed by Riley, Will, Sun, and Capheus, all laughing. Felix, determined not to embarrass himself, also takes off, leaving Kala and Wolfgang.

Wolfgang glances down at his leg. “Want to jump in the lake with me?”

Kala grins, untying the scarf around her waist and handing it to him. “Of course.”

They reach the lake last and Dani, who by now has shed her shimmery cover-up and is standing in a brilliant orange bikini, points a finger at them.

“Ooh, look who has to jump,” she sing-songs.

“Dani, you cannot expect an injured man to--”  Lito stops himself when Wolfgang tugs off his shirt with a shrug and jumps unhesitatingly into the lake. He sighs. “Never mind.”

Daniela grins victoriously, and Wolfgang resurfaces, looking up at Kala.

“You promised,” he says, splashing her.

“Is it cold?” she asks cautiously, sitting down and extending a foot into the water.

She realizes this is a mistake, because Wolfgang grabs her ankle and tugs her into the lake with him; she gasps and shivers, sputtering and splashing him when she emerges from the water.

“Oh, you _ass_!” she says, clinging to him for warmth, and he grins hugely.

“Ay, what the hell,” says Dani, dancing backward to take a running leap off the pier. She giggles when she comes up, shivering in the cold water, and yells at Lito, “Your turn, Lito!”

Hernando pushes his glasses up his nose and looks at Lito. “You didn’t wear those tiny gold shorts for nothing, now did you?”

Lito groans at both of them, but slips his pants off, takes a bracing breath, and runs off the pier as well. Capheus, Riley, and Will all laugh, removing various items of clothing to reach their swimsuits, and follow Lito’s example.

This leaves Sun, who rolls her eyes, slips carefully into the water, and gracefully swims away from the pier.

“Ladies!” shouts Dani at Amanita and Nomi, who grimace at each other, then giggle and take hands, jumping in together.

“Hey, Felix, don’t be a baby!” shouts Dani, submerging in the water so just her head is visible. She blinks mischievously, smirking. “Are you afraid of the fish?”

“Fuck me,” mutters Felix, stripping off his shirt. “I hate swimming!”

“No one hates swimming!” yells Dani.

Felix tosses his pants onto a nearby chair. “I do!” But then he cannonballs into the water, sending a wave of chilly water over everyone’s heads, and Dani laughs, pleased with herself.

Everyone swims around for a few minutes -- except Hernando, who is sipping his champagne on the pier, looking deeply satisfied with his choice to stay dry.

Wolfgang closes his eyes and sinks into the water so only his face is exposed to the air, stretching his fingers, slowly letting all of his breath go. It’s been months since he was in the water and he didn’t expect to feel so reassured by the cold weightlessness; he didn’t expect the water to remind him that not all was lost. He takes a big breath so he doesn’t slip underneath, buoying himself up. He finds Kala’s hand in the water next to him, so he silently takes it, and then she turns so they’re looking at each other.

He grins softly, pulling her into his arms, and she puts her legs around his waist.

“This feels good,” she admits quietly, touching her nose to his.

He nods, sneaking a quick kiss. “There’s a pool outside our room.”

“Mm, later,” she agrees.

He laughs and she grins. Then she squeezes his biceps gently.

“Wolfgang?”

“Kala?”

“I’m turning into a popsicle.”

He shakes his head, chuckling, and drifts with her to the pier. She lifts herself out of the water, though she keeps her toes in. He kisses her calf and she blushes, and then he pushes off the dock and swims vigorously into the lake. Kala bites her bottom lip, watching him, and then Daniela sighs and pops out of the water next to her.

“Ay, Germans can handle cold water, huh? My tits might as well be snow cones right now.”

Kala looks at her for a moment. “You have the most interesting turns of phrase.”

“No, you know who has interesting turns of phrase?” says Dani, and she points at Felix. “We were watching one of Lito’s movies at the hotel a couple of days ago, and there’s a scene where this masseur is massaging Lito with a bunch of oil, and Felix blurts out _that looks as slick as owl shit on a hot tin roof_. I will _never_ unhear that, okay? It was a romantic scene and _that_ is what he went with.”

Kala grins. “He’s very exuberant. I think he talks enough for two people after spending so much time with Wolfgang.”

“Yeah, Wolfgang’s quiet, isn’t he?” she asks kindly. She pauses, looking carefully at Kala. “If you ever need someone to talk to...I would understand. I’ve been there.”

Kala nods, smiling. “Thank you.”

Dani smiles back, and then she hops to her feet, pulling Hernando back to the hotel with her to retrieve drinks and snacks for the others by the lake. Kala leans back, swishing her feet in the water absentmindedly. Nomi joins her after a moment, sitting behind her and braiding her hair, and Lito gets out of the lake, shivering and shaking his legs out to warm them up. Soon, almost everyone is lying in the sun on the pier, eyes closed, focusing on the gentle roll of waves, fizz of champagne, chirping of birds.

Kala takes a deep, happy breath, drunk on the honey fragrance of the blossoms all around. She stretches her arms out, fingertips against the sun-saturated wood of the pier. Wolfgang is the last to get out of the lake, and he looks at Kala for a moment as he lets the water drip off of him. The sun glints on her coppery skin, made brighter by a turquoise and gold bikini, and Nomi has braided her hair around her head to look like a crown.

He lays next to her, leaning over to press a stubbly kiss to the side of her mouth.

“You look like a siren,” he murmurs.

“Mm, you’re cold,” she says in response, adding with a frown, “are sirens the goddesses who turn unworthy men into pigs?”

“That’s Circe,” he says. “Sirens lure men to their deaths in rough seas.”

“Mm, I like both of those options,” she whispers before turning and kissing him quickly. “How far did you swim?”

“Farther than Sun,” he says, and Sun kicks him as she gets up to get a towel.

Soon, Dani and Hernando have returned with mojitos and plates of tapas which they obtained from the resort bar. They’re also balancing several inflatables to float on the lake in. Kala and Wolfgang sit apart from the rest, sharing a plate and feeding each other. Kala dips her toes into the lake, sipping her mojito with a double straw and grinning whenever she feels the kiss of tiny minnows on her feet.

“That _tickles_ ,” she says each time, looking down just in time to see the minuscule fish vanish.

Wolfgang watches her, occasionally tucking a loose curl behind her ear or bringing her hand up to kiss her palm. He feels her all around her like the August sun. The others glance at them from time to time, all smiling at each other, relieved beyond expression that their Cluster-mates are safe, together, in love.

The sun sinks lower in the sky, sending pillars of salmon pink and tangerine light over the water, and the breeze picks up slightly. Kala and Wolfgang meet eyes, thinking, and then get unspokenly to their feet and take hands.

“We’re going to take a walk…” murmurs Kala to the others.

Lito sits up, pouting. “No, stay!”

Riley smiles encouragingly and pats Lito’s leg. “Okay, enjoy yourselves, you two!”

They nod, their friends wave, and they make their way off the pier. They hear Lito and Riley’s voices overlap in their minds.

 _Let them go, they’re falling in love_ , says Riley.

 _They’re already in love_ , retorts Lito.

And Riley smiles. _Being in love is a constant state of falling in love_.

Kala looks up at Wolfgang, hair falling out of its braid and framing her delicate features. “What do you think?”

He smiles, then shifts to put an arm around her waist while they walk. “I think I’ll always be falling in love with you.”


	17. August 8, 7:40 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang take a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew some inspiration for this chapter from these questions: https://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/11/fashion/no-37-big-wedding-or-small.html

Wolfgang and Kala find a field of sunflowers at the edge of the resort and impulsively forge a path through it, careful not to damage the plants. Kala walks ahead of Wolfgang, hand trailing behind and feeling over the flowers like a hummingbird collecting pollen; she’s wearing Wolfgang’s loose button-down over her swimsuit, walking with a slight sway in her hips, taking in every detail. He walks with a hand on her waist, taken over by the sight of her, by how warm her energy is tonight.

“We should ask each other things we don’t know about each other,” she whispers, savoring a smile for a moment. “Lito gave me some pointers.”

Wolfgang laughs softly. “Uh oh.”

Kala grins. “He read an article recently. Something about...what to ask your lover, or how to fall in love, or...something. About love. Questions about love.”

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow. “Alright...”

“So, given the choice of anyone in the world,” she says, pausing dramatically, “whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

“Living or dead?” he asks.

His answer reaches her before he speaks, and she murmurs, “Your mother.”

He nods. “My mother. I only knew her as a child, I want to know her now. You, Kala?”

She loves her name in his mouth. She smiles. “I’m not sure...” Then she gasps. “Anandibai Joshee. She was the first female medical doctor in India, she wanted to open a school for Hindu women to become scientists...I love her, I love her. So, yes, her.”

Wolfgang fights a spontaneous urge to kiss her. He fell in love with her on the rooftop, when she first talked about her religion and her commitment to science, when she spoke with such open joy. Her expression reminds him of that.

But he only says, “Next question.”

She smiles. “We’re supposed to alternate.”

He glances at her, smirking. “But you’re the one who knows what to ask.”

“Be creative,” she murmurs.

Lito speaks in his mind, nudging him.

“Alright,” he says softly, stepping carefully around a baby sunflower and taking Kala’s shoulder to steady himself, “Would you like to be famous?”

Kala tweaks her fingers around the nearest sunflower stalk as she passes it, smiling.

“Famous?” she asks gently, and her eyes have grown wide and warm. He can tell she’s laughing at a thought inside her mind. “Hmm. Famous. Well, not _famous_. I wouldn’t mind publishing something that is widely respected. Or discovering something useful. And you?” 

He shakes his head. “No.”

“No,” she murmurs, meeting his eyes over her shoulder. “I’m not sure you’re allowed to answer with just one word...”

“I don’t like attention,” he replies.

She pops an eyebrow. “Oh, that isn’t true.”

He frowns. “Isn’t it?”

“Perhaps it is, but you certainly have a...dramatic flair,” she says affectionately.

“I do not,” he says flatly.

She raises her eyebrows higher, and he has to look away, laughing, knowing she’s right. They take hands, both smiling, and the sun disappears from the horizon; a sudden chill overtakes the field.

“Alright,” he concedes. “But I don’t want to be famous.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Because it’s just strangers pretending they know you. I would rather...” He hesitates, and she feels the weight of his next words before he says them. “I would rather have everyone I’m close to know who I am.”

Kala tilts her head thoughtfully. “I think that scares you, too.”

He nods. “It does. Except with you.”

She looks at him. “Except with me?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never been able to hide from you.”

She breathes out quickly, smiling wide. “I’ve always felt you’re quite good at hiding from me...”

But he shakes his head. “If I really wanted to, I would have stayed away from you.” He looks at her, fighting the urge to pull her close, to reaffirm what they already know with a touch, a kiss. “I didn’t want to.”

She nods slowly and whispers, “I know how hard you tried.”

“I don’t have very much self-control,” he admits in response and she smiles again.

“Thank goodness you don’t,” she says seriously.

They look at each other again, both wanting the same thing. Kala slows her pace, then stops and turns. She puts her arms around his neck and he kisses her, at first just a brush of lips; then he grips her close and kisses her forcefully. She smiles against his lips, standing on tiptoes to kiss him back.

They stay close when they break apart. He squeezes her waist and she rests her forehead against his. By now, night has set in, and they are far enough from the city to tilt their heads back and perceive the first, faint stars. They hold still, listening to the water over the rocks in a nearby stream. Kala snuggles close to Wolfgang, eyelids heavy.

“I forgot my next question,” she admits and he chuckles.

Then he says, “I have one.”

She nods, eyes bright with interest. “Go on.”

“What’s the best memory you have?” he asks.

She smiles, stepping again through the huge flowers, guiding him by the hand. She thinks for a moment, and he can see her thoughts as if watching a film reel -- a crowded street in Mumbai, colors flying; a quiet afternoon in her father’s kitchen; an even quieter night in her university lab, signing her name to a dissertation; holding hands with him in the art gallery restroom; their first night together; finding his gun unexpectedly in her hands, overcome with amusement when she sees he’s holding her scarlet lingerie; then, an incomplete, exhausted memory of him in bed in Iceland, finally and impossibly _awake_.

“When you woke up,” she murmurs. “When I felt sure you weren’t going to die.”

He nods, shaken from seeing himself from her perspective. She squeezes his hand and looks at him over her shoulder.

“You?” she asks as they break out of the sunflower field and into a young forest bordering the stream.

He glances down, smiling to himself, and admits, “Having sex with you the first time.”

She blushes and can’t help smiling too. “Why is that?”

“Because I was able to express everything I needed to without speaking,” he replies quietly. “It was the first time in my life I ever...felt like that about a woman, in that way.”

She nods, unexpectedly emotional. “Yes. It felt like that.”

He nods in response, tangling their fingers together. They walk quietly for a moment, getting lost in the trees, and then Kala smiles in curiosity.

“How did you feel when you first saw me?” she asks quietly.

He laughs and takes a moment. “Confused, surprised. It’s funny, actually, I…” He trails off and she nudges him. He laughs at himself. “The night that your family met Rajan’s, I went out to dinner with this girl--”

“You went out to dinner?” she asks in disbelief.

He hesitates. She gasps in realization.

“I remember being absolutely drenched in sweat all night. That was your fault, wasn’t it?”

He nods, laughing. “I helped this girl get her keys out of her car, and we went back to my place, and then we had dinner.”

She nods. “That makes more sense. But still. Dinner?”

“I was hungry, I wanted...Indian food,” he explains.

She looks up at him, eyes bright with humor. “Oh, of course you did...”

He shoves her lightly and continues, “So we went out, and I told her I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and she asked me if there was someone else… and I saw you on a balcony and I…” He shrugs in disbelief. “I must not have been very convincing when I said no, because she asked me about it again, and I told her there was.”

Kala blinks in surprise. “And you meant me?”

“I meant you,” he says honestly.

Kala breathes out. “What...what did you say about me?”

“Just that you...mattered to me,” he says softly. “That I couldn’t hurt you.”

“That was so early,” she breathes. "You didn't even know who I was."

“I’ve told you before, I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he replies, but he understands her surprise.

She nods, moved. They continue to walk through the trees, both chilly and pressing closer.

“I wanted you too,” she says after a moment. “Which terrified me.” She smiles to herself. “Did you think you were losing your mind? I did.”

He laughs. “At first.”

She nods, smiling more widely. Then she glances at him. “Alright, new question. Lito insisted on this one.” She pauses, taking a breath. “If you knew that a year from today, you would die suddenly, would you change the way you’re living now?”

He slows his pace without realizing it, hit in the chest. “No,” he says, shocked. “No. I wouldn't change anything.”

She nods, sniffling, still emotional from earlier. “Me neither.”

They walk for another moment, now along the stream, careful over the stones and stumps.

“Did you ever wonder how you would die?” asks Kala, very softly.

He nods. “I always felt sure how I would die.”

“How?” she murmurs, wrapping his shirt more tightly around her, keeping out the breeze off the stream.

“My father,” he admits. “Then Sergei. He would have lost patience with me eventually.”

She nods, but before she can reply, he goes on.

“I looked forward to it sometimes,” he admits. “Something about dying in Berlin, something about...leaving it behind.”

“Do you feel that way now?” she asks carefully.

“No, not now,” he replies as they find a path, turning away from the stream and again towards the resort. “Did you ever wonder?”

She shakes her head. “Not often. I was too afraid. Although, I did think about it after Rajan’s father...and I thought about it constantly after they took you.”

He nods, chest clenching. “I thought I would want to die so the pain would stop. But I couldn’t want that, because I wanted to see you again.”

She presses closer, sniffling, and they listen to the stream fade behind them, guided by the yellow and gold lights of the resort along the lake. Thunder rolls, shaking the ground, and the air is suddenly heavy with moisture and electricity.

“Something happier,” she murmurs. “When was the last time you sang?”

He laughs, soothing her side with a touch. “Today.”

“Not today, not _Happy Birthday_ ,” she says.

He thinks back, smiling. “I -- don’t remember. The night we sang together, maybe.”

She nods. “That may be true for me too.”

He grins and shakes his head. “That’s a lie.”

“What?” she asks.

He meets her eyes. “You sing in the shower every morning.”

She flushes. “Oh _no._ You can hear me? Oh my God!”

He grins more widely, laughing. “You have a beautiful voice--”

“Oh no, oh my God, why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, cheeks as dark as merlot wine.

“I thought you knew,” he says honestly. “I thought you were showing off.”

“Oh no,” she repeats. “I’m _terrible_.”

“Bullshit,” he insists. “You can sing.”

“Okay, this conversation is over,” she says. “Oh my God.”

He chuckles and pulls her closer. She covers her face, finally giving into an embarrassed laugh, and they step out of the forest. The first raindrops hit their shoulders but they make no effort to walk faster, leaning against each other, both softly grinning.

“I’m never singing in the shower again,” she tells him.

“Then I’ll get in with you and sing,” he says. “And you’ll feel so bad for me that you’ll have to sing too.”

She laughs. “Why would I feel bad? You have a nice voice too.” She smiles to herself as they approach the main path. “I have one more question. Is there something that you’ve always wanted to do, and why haven’t you done it?”

He glances unsurely at her, the rain coming down in sheets now. Then, knowing she’ll perceive his thought anyway, he quietly confides, “I’ve always wanted a family.”

She looks up at him. “A family?”

“Kids,” he clarifies.

“O-oh,” she says breathily. “Really?”

He nods, and she smiles unexpectedly.

“That’s sweet,” she tells him softly. “I think you would...be good at that. But I--”

“I know,” he says warmly. “And you don’t have to want to for me.”

“But, if that’s what you want…” she trails off, tucking her drenched hair behind her ear.

He smiles. “Future conversation.”

She dips her head, laughing, more at ease. “True. We’ve barely had a month together.”

They walk quietly in the rain for a moment. She shivers, the thin fabric of his shirt clinging to her slender frame, and he puts an arm around her. The trees sway suddenly in the wind and thunder cracks nearby. They look at each other, eyes bright, and then they grip hands and run. Wolfgang’s leg smarts slightly but he grits his teeth and pulls her along, running through raindrops the size of grapes, thunder shaking the ground under their feet. Lightning illuminates the sky as they reach their room, and they huddle under the roofline, shaking and laughing.

“What about you?” he asks as he finds the key.

“What about me?” she replies, squeezing the dampness out of her hair.

“What have you always wanted to do?” he says, pushing the door open as another flash of light irradiates their silhouettes.

She goes through the door, taking off the soaked shirt and hanging it on the back of a chair. She shivers, looking through her bag and taking out a long tank top and some panties. She unlatches the top piece of her swimsuit and hangs it on the same chair as the shirt, then pulls the tank over her frame and ties her hair up.

“I have always wanted…” she says slowly, slipping off her bottoms and putting the panties on instead. Wolfgang watches her with a gentle smirk; he likes how comfortable she is with him. “...to start my own pharmaceutical company.”

He smiles and nods. “I’m sure you will.”

She smiles softly, pulling him away from the door as lightning flashes again. She tugs at the waistline of his swim trunks.

“Pajamas,” she says, adding, “Too bad about the pool.”

“Tomorrow,” he replies, kissing her, fingertips lingering on her hips.

She nods, then turns and pulls his boxers out of his bag. She hands them to him, and he exchanges them for his swim trunks; then he pushes her back onto the bed, following her down and kissing her deeply. She smiles against his mouth, wrapping her arms around him. Then they jump at a new grumble of thunder.

They get hastily under the covers, pressing close to each other, listening to the relentless rain. Then Kala tilts her face towards Wolfgang’s and she finds his hands under the covers.

“Let’s talk all night,” she murmurs.

He nods and she reaches to turn out the light. When she turns back to him, he kisses her gently and pulls her closer. Then he thumbs over her lips, sensing the questions she’s planning, and she smiles gently.

“I could talk to you the rest of my life,” she tells him quietly after a moment.

“I could talk to you too,” he replies.

She smiles and nods, kissing him again as the rain intensifies.


	18. September 8, 6:35 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Kala talk. Nomi and Amanita have exciting news, as does Daya. Sun and Nomi insist on a conversation with Wolfgang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have guessed, I’m a sucker for character development, so this is another chapter with quite a bit of talking! This arc is important to me for Wolfgang so hopefully I managed to make it interesting. ;)
> 
> Also, I'm unclear on Daya's age/etc...her Wiki says she's married with kids...I'm not positive that's accurate, but I'm going with that to some extent in this fic.
> 
> A reminder that I accept prompts for this fic! Anything you can think of...leave me a comment and I will see if I can fit the idea into the fic.
> 
> TW FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE.

Wolfgang smiles tiredly at Felix as he walks into the small, dark bar. It’s the first cold night of September and he’s just gotten back from a job interview with a children's home. He’s sure Kala is anxiously pacing, wanting news, but he needed to have a drink with Felix before debriefing with her.

Felix raises his glass in greeting as Wolfgang approaches. “Nice suit.”

Wolfgang laughs and rubs his eyes. He yanks his tie loose and gestures wearily at the bartender for a beer.

“How’d it go?” asks Felix, downing the last of his beer and asking for another one.

Wolfgang looks at Felix’s empty glass. “How late am I?”

“Almost an hour,” says Felix. “Did you walk?”

Wolfgang nods. “Needed to think.”

“That bad, huh?” asks Felix.

Wolfgang shakes his head, thanking the bartender quietly as he takes his beer. “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “It went alright.” He looks at Felix for a minute -- unkempt hair, a mismatched orange shirt under a military-style jacket, a hyperactive foot tapping on the side of his stool. He smiles slightly. “It’s good to see you.”

Felix snorts and takes a sip of beer. “Good to see you, too. Can’t blame you, if I had a girlfriend like that I’d never leave the house. How are you guys doing?”

Wolfgang smiles. “Good. Don’t understand how I spent all my time before I was with her.”

“Fuck, man, I need to get out there,” sighs Felix. “It’s no fun anymore, going out alone. Always thought I was there for the girls, but you were half the fun, man. You got me involved in all sorts of wild shit that doesn’t happen if I’m alone.” He takes a large gulp of beer and points at Wolfgang. “Mark my words,  I’m gonna start seeing girls more than once. I’m gonna find something real.”

Wolfgang shakes his head and smirks over his beer. “I don’t believe you.”

Felix groans. "Fuck, man, give me a break!" He shakes his head and takes a long draft of beer. "Enough about me. Complain about your new corporate world. That's why we're here." 

"It was one job interview," says Wolfgang.

"Which you're clearly dying to complain about."

Wolfgang smiles halfheartedly. Felix frowns and pats his arm.

"Hey, shit, what's up?"

Wolfgang shrugs. "I think I did really well, think I might even get it."

"But you don't want it?"

"No, I do, I just don't -- trust myself with the job."

Felix sighs, motioning at the bartender for two more beers. They wait quietly for a moment, Felix frowning in thought, Wolfgang staring blankly at the wall of liquor behind the counter. Felix nudges Wolfgang's leg with his foot when their beers arrive.

"You said the job's like...what, counseling? You don't think you'll say the right things?"

Wolfgang rubs his lips in thought. "These kids who  get caught in the system...shit, Felix, some of the stories the woman interviewing me told me...some of it's worse than what happened to me."

"Doubt that," Felix says darkly.

Wolfgang shrugs in concession.

"Wolfie, c'mon, you'll say all the right things. You're actually fucking great at that after a couple beers. Just learn how to do that sober and you'll do great."

"It's not that," says Wolfgang, sitting up straighter and running his hand through his hair. "I don't trust myself not to..."

"Oh, shit," breathes Felix after a moment.

"Yeah," Wolfgang says dully. "It's going to be hard for me to sit there and listen to what happened and say that I can fix things without...fixing things."

"Wolfie, look, I know you were born to be the tiny, blonde version of Frank Castle, but you running around Berlin and killing shitty parents isn't going to work for Kala."

Wolfgang looks at his brother for a moment. "Who?"

Felix groans dramatically. "I have  _got_ to get you caught up on Marvel--"

Wolfgang holds up his hands. "Never mind. I know it doesn’t work for Kala. But it’s not Kala, it’s me. It doesn’t work for me.” 

Felix nods. “It’s not who you are.

Wolfgang drinks his beer. “Yes, it is. But it’s not who I want to be.”

Felix sits back, killing time by sipping his beer and fishing in his pockets for a cigarette. He pats Wolfgang’s arm and nods at the door, and the two of them pay, get up, and go outside to smoke.

“The system fucked you,” says Felix with a shrug. “But that’s why it needs you.”

“Sun’s screaming at me about this,” mutters Wolfgang in response.

Felix chuckles. From what he knows of the fierce Korean woman, he imagines she’s been a constant presence in Wolfgang’s mind.

“She’s right,” Wolfgang goes on, igniting his cigarette after sheltering the lighter from the wind.

Felix breathes out, unsure why he feels insistent, and goes on slowly, “Look, Wolfie, if you had  _one_  person to talk to when you were a kid, if you had  _one_ person who got it? Fuck, man, it would have helped. Maybe you would have even left.”

Wolfgang nods, breathing in, then shakes his head. “You’re right, I just--” He stops suddenly, chest tight. “I don’t know if I can.”

“It’s too hard?” guesses Felix quietly. “Hearing those stories?”

Wolfgang nods again, letting his hand fall to his side and flicking the ash off his cigarette.

“But I feel like I have to,” he says after a moment, adding even later, “Who else is going to?”

Felix shrugs. “You’ve paid your dues, Wolfie.”

“But it won’t get easier,” says Wolfgang. “And if it won’t get easier, I might as well.”

They don’t speak for a moment, and then Felix’s stomach grumbles audibly. Wolfgang smirks to himself and glances at Felix.

“Want to come over for dinner?” he asks.

“Fuck yeah,” says Felix gratefully.

Wolfgang smiles and puts an arm around Felix’s shoulders, then texts Kala; texting is simpler than visiting around non-Sensates.

_Wolfgang, 7:02 p.m. -- Can Felix come over for dinner?_

_Kala, 7:03 p.m. -- Of course. How did it go?_

_Wolfgang, 7:05 p.m. -- Good I think. Are you sure?_

_Kala, 7:05 p.m. -- Yes, I can make some pasta! Though I wanted some time alone with you._

_Wolfgang, 7:05 p.m. -- Tomorrow?_

_Kala, 7:06 p.m. -- Tomorrow._

_Wolfgang, 7:06 p.m. -- Love you._

_Kala, 7:07 p.m. -- Love you <3_

“Does wifey say yes?” asks Felix as they walk.

“Don’t say that around her, Felix...”

“You know you’re gonna marry that girl, Wolfgang…”

Wolfgang tries not to smile. “I know. But she doesn’t, yet.”

“Bullshit, she knows, I wouldn’t be surprised if she asks you.”

“We’ve been together a couple of months, Felix,” says Wolfgang carefully, drawing on his cigarette.

“Yeah, but you’ve had a thing for two years,” replies Felix, tossing his cigarette butt. “I’m best man, right?”

“Yeah, if I don’t kill you first for calling my new girlfriend my wife.”

Felix grins then slings an arm around Wolfgang’s shoulders waist as they walk.

“My life’s boring now and it’s your fault, just so you know,” says Felix.

Then his phone buzzes, he turns slightly red, and he holds up a finger. “Hold on.” He picks up the phone and goes on, “Hey, sorry, I’m doing something with Wolfie. Yeah, yeah, watch without me. Text me tomorrow.”

Wolfgang narrows his eyes. “Was that--?”

“Lito,” yelps Felix.

 _It was Dani,_  says Lito in Wolfgang’s mind.

“Do you watch movies with her over the phone?” asks Wolfgang.

“...no,” says Felix petulantly, thrusting his phone into his pocket.

“You do,” says Wolfgang, laughing in astonishment.

“It’s just a movie buff thing,” says Felix, defensively lighting a new cigarette.

“Uh huh,” says Wolfgang, giving Felix a squeeze.

They walk the last few moments with Felix chuckling at himself and Wolfgang shaking his head. They go through the door to Wolfgang’s apartment and find Kala in the kitchen, wearing beat-up jeans and a long shirt with the  _Deutscher Fußball-Bund_ logo on it; her hair is tied up in a messy bun.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” she says to Felix as she pulls two beers out of the fridge. “And I need to do laundry. And not all of my clothing has arrived from Mumbai.”

“Or you just like wearing my shirts,” says Wolfgang.

She looks down to hide a smile, taking her tea off the counter and sipping it. “I do…”

Felix rolls his eyes and sits heavily at the kitchen table. Kala walks up to Wolfgang and gives him a beer, and he leans to kiss her hello but she holds up a finger.

“I’m feeling a bit sick, you probably shouldn’t--”

He cuts her off with a kiss and raises an eyebrow.

She sighs. “You’ll see. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, it’s terrible and I’ve been told I am  _very_ contagious when I am sick.” She hands Felix a beer, then goes about boiling water for pasta. “I would always get Daya sick when I was sick, and she was quite careful. My parents always quarantined me in my room and Daya would stay far away, but still, she would get sick.” She shakes some salt into the water and reaches in a cabinet for pasta, then sighs when she sees the pasta box is on the top shelf. “Babe?” she directs at Wolfgang, gesturing at the box.

He chuckles and gets up to get the box for her. She smiles in thanks, sure he’s going to tease her about her height based on the way his mouth curls on one side. But he bites his bottom lip and remains silent, taking a seat by Felix once more. 

Kala pours some pasta into the water and goes on, “Speaking of Daya, I spent half the day on the phone with her, because she is having a baby--”

“Daya’s married?” asks Wolfgang.

“You knew that! She got married very soon after I did...well, after the first wedding, that is…”

Wolfgang makes a face at Felix and mouths, “What?” 

Felix snorts, shakes his head, and drinks his beer.

 "Anyway, she’s having a baby which means I’ll need to go to Mumbai soon and pretend to be enthralled with her belly at all times…”

She sits down at the table with a slight sigh, then sneezes into the crook of her arm.

“How far along is she?” asks Wolfgang.

“Oh, two months or less, she’s of course been trying for a baby so she went to see the doctor the moment she noticed something.” Kala frowns gently and takes a sip of tea. “She’s terribly excited, but all I can think of is the fact that once, when we were babysitting our little cousins, she held one of them off the balcony of the restaurant because he was being naughty. The  _balcony_ , he would have died if she dropped him…”

Felix chortles. “Little cousins don’t count. Everyone fucks with their little cousins.”

“Do they?” queries Kala. “I always treated my little cousins very well. Although, they gave me less trouble because I bribed them with treats from the restaurant.”

“Bribery always works with kids,” says Felix sagely. “I’m convinced that was my mother’s strategy. Everything I did was for dessert or movie tickets or posters…” He shrugs and drinks some beer. “Until she got sick, then I just did it for her. Swept the whole damn house and did all the dishes every day. And you know I fucking hate cleaning.”

Wolfgang smiles, looking down. Then he shoots a smirk at Kala. “Felix is full of shit, Daya will definitely use fear and intimidation with her own kids.”

“Daya  _can_ be frightening,” admits Kala with a laugh. She gets to her feet to finish up the pasta, adding over her shoulder, “Oh,  _and_ Nomi visited to remind me the wedding is on the 30th...and we still don’t have plane tickets…” She drains the pasta, then returns it to the pan with some butter and parmesan cheese. She sighs. “And Rajan called.”

Wolfgang frowns, thumbing over the lip of his beer. “Rajan called?”

Kala nods, plating up the pasta. “To say that his assistant will be handling my affairs in Mumbai because it seems he has been denied bail…”

Felix glances at Wolfgang, then says to Kala, “I see you have a type.”

“Oh, it’s not funny,” sighs Kala, eyes distant as she sits down with them again and distributes forks. “He’s in serious trouble for something he never meant to become involved in…it’s all Ajay’s fault.”

Wolfgang takes a bite of pasta, then shrugs and quietly says, “Nomi could fix it.”

Kala brightens. “You...you wouldn’t mind?"

He shakes his head. “I don’t dislike him.”

Felix, through a huge mouthful of pasta, mumbles, “Is that how the trouble with the police went away? Nomi? She wiped your records?”

Wolfgang nods, leaning back in his seat to reach for another beer out of the fridge.

“Shit. Can she do that for me?”

Wolfgang laughs. “You have two misdemeanors.”

Felix nods in concession, then takes another bite of pasta and says to Kala, “Thanks for dinner.”

She smiles. “Of course. You’re family. And you’re terribly skinny.”

“That’s fucking unfixable,” says Felix. “My mother fed me about a hundred  _Schmalzkuchen*_ a day growing up, never gained a pound.”

“Yes, I was the same way,” agrees Kala, smiling. “You should have seen how much I ate as a child. Perhaps because I spent  _most_ of the time in my father’s kitchen and I was always...sneaking treats. My auntie always tells me it will catch up with me and everything will change and I’ll be the size of an elephant. That is her favorite comparison, but she  _also_ enjoys telling me I will be the size of a pregnant whale...”

“Nice lady,” laughs Felix.

Wolfgang sits back, listening to them talk. Over the last few weeks he’s grown to love their constant background chatter. The apartment feels empty without it now. He finishes his food, lights a cigarette, and turns to look out of the window; the streets are dark now and the misty wind blows against the glass, sometimes carrying leaves, which stick to the window and tremble. The voices fade around him and he slowly closes his eyes, sinking unwillingly into a memory. Memories are more distant when he’s awake than when he’s dreaming; they’re more impermanent, somehow discolored with age even in his mind.

He’s on the floor of his parent’s dismal apartment, surrounded by crushed peanut shells and bottle caps, staring at the dark, water-stained ceiling. It’s the moment of brief serenity, just upon waking after being knocked out, the moment before the pain reasserts itself and the necessity to run to Felix’s house overtakes him. He says to himself, as always,  _this is the last time._ And as always, as he gets to his feet and checks himself for broken fingers and blood, he staves off the reality that he’s too weak to make sure it is the last time; he shuts his eyes against the fear that he always will be too weak.  _Crying is for bitches..._

“Wolfgang?  _Wolfgang!_ ”

He blinks in surprise, the image of his father’s red, bloated face slipping away as he stares at Felix and Kala, who are watching him with worried apprehension.

“Sorry, I…” He shakes his head, unable to find an explanation, then glances at his cigarette, which is half-ash. He breathes out. “I was thinking about something.”

“You can talk to us, Wolfie,” Felix says sheepishly

Wolfgang puts his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. “Gotta piss.”

He leaves the room, and Kala and Felix glance at each other. Kala lets out a soft breath and cradles her tea close to her chest. Felix leans back in his chair, shaking his head gently.

“He said the job’s gonna involve talking to kids who’ve had shit happen to them like the shit he had happen, it’s probably...bringing up some memories,” says Felix quietly.

“I don't know if he’s ready for that,” murmurs Kala. “I didn’t mean to push him, honestly I didn’t expect him to be called for an interview, he doesn’t have a degree or any experience--”

“Yeah, but he’s Wolfgang. People don’t like to say no to him, he can be pretty fucking charming when he wants to be.”

Kala nods, worried. “I know how scared he is. But I think he wants this, and I think he knows how good he would be.”

“Yeah, but...I don’t know if he should be reexperiencing all that shit.” Felix pauses, playing with the loose edge of the label on his beer. “I know he’s shown you what happened to him as a kid, sharing memories and shit. But you didn’t...you didn’t  _see_ it, you weren’t there, it was…” He trails off. “I didn’t understand all of it as a kid, he probably didn’t either, but sometimes I would see this look in my mother’s eyes when Wolfgang came over. She was never an angry woman and she had a bloodthirsty look. Always wondered if she would have killed Anton if Wolfie didn’t. She hated him, in a different way than you hate the average shitty person, you know? Like she knew something.” Felix looks out of the kitchen, towards the bathroom door, and goes on more quietly, “When we were kids, for a long time, he hated being touched. He’d always flinch. It wasn’t until we started fooling around with girls that he calmed down a bit, you know? Like that was the first kind of touch that felt alright to him? But even me, if he wasn’t expecting it and I grabbed his shoulder or something...it set him off.”

Kala slides her fingertips lightly over the chilly ceramic of her mug. “What do you mean, Felix?”

“I don’t know what I mean,” he says honestly, adding more quietly, “All I know is that we knew a lot of kids that got beat up at home, it wasn’t a friendly time in Berlin, so many people were poor and hungry...but it was different with Wolfgang, it was...sick.”

Kala nods, tears threatening to spill over her lashes. “I think you’re right.” She wipes her eyes and swallows. “But what would be more meaningful to him than making sure the same things don’t happen to other people? He’s always been a protector.”

“Fuck, of course,” agrees Felix. “But it might be too hard.” Then he shrugs. “But what else is he going to do? He’s fucking smart, and he’ll get bored staying out of trouble. At least this would...give him something to care about.”

“He may care too much,” murmurs Kala, but can’t go on because the bathroom door opens and Wolfgang returns to his seat.

Felix and Kala look away from each other.

“I’m not stupid,” says Wolfgang, but his voice is warm. “I know what you’re talking about.”

Kala smiles sadly and takes his hand. “We’re worried about you.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be.”

Kala hesitates, then whispers, “Wolfgang, you don’t have to put yourself through this if you don’t think you can handle it. You don’t owe the world anything.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” he says, adding, “I want this. You can trust me.” He takes a sip of beer, thinking. “I won’t get it, anyway.”

Kala and Felix quickly glance at each other, unsettled. Then Kala coughs and shivers, and Wolfgang rubs her arm.

“Babe, you should go to bed,” he tells her.

She nods, getting up and smiling at Felix. Felix smiles back, openly warm, grateful someone good is finally in his brother’s life. Wolfgang glances over his shoulder as Kala disappears into their room. Then he gets to his feet and pulls a large bottle of vodka down from the top shelf.

“Bad idea, Wolfie, that stuff is liquid depression--”

“Go home,” says Wolfgang quietly.

Felix frowns. “What?”

“Go home,” repeats Wolfgang, unscrewing the cap.

Felix swallows, hurt, but forces a nod and gets up. He pats Wolfgang’s shoulder on his way out and a wave of guilt washes over Wolfgang as he hears the front door click shut. He almost runs to catch Felix and apologize, but decides against it. When he turns around, looking for a glass, he sees Sun sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of espresso, hair mussed from sleep.

“Good morning,” she says slowly.

“It’s the nighttime here,” he says irritably.

“That was rude, what you did to Felix.” 

Wolfgang pours a helping of vodka into a clear glass. “I want to be alone.” 

Sun shrugs. “I’m not going to leave you alone to replay everything in your mind.”

Wolfgang closes his eyes, composing himself, then takes a large drink of vodka. He sets the cup aside with a clatter, then opens the fridge and begins scouring for soup ingredients.

“You know they are right to worry,” murmurs Sun.

Wolfgang doesn’t reply, going over a list in his mind -- he used to make Felix soup when he was sick, but he doesn’t remember the method.

“I  _will_ keep talking,” chides Sun.

“I’ll keep ignoring you,” he replies.

“You are afraid,” says Sun gently. “But you and I both know that means you must do this. Detective Mun is trying to convince me to do the same. He wants me to advocate for the women who are wrongly imprisoned.”

“Are you going to?” asks Wolfgang, pulling a large knife out of the dishrack and whacking the greens off the top of a carrot.

“Please, do not cut your fingers off,” sighs Sun, adding with a sigh, “I don’t know yet. But I know I should. Circles are good for closure.”

“You changed your mind,” he remarks.

She nods. “I did. Not about the system. The system will always fail overall. But that doesn’t mean...the individual parts of the system...cannot help.”

“You love him, don’t you?” mumbles Wolfgang. “Mun.”

“Don’t deflect,” scoffs Sun.

“I’m not. You love him, being with him has changed you.”

“We aren’t together,” says Sun flatly.

“Maybe not, but he changed your mind about police officers.”

Sun folds her arms. “Yes, I now believe there is  _one_ good man in the entire Seoul precinct. Hoorah”

“No,” says Wolfgang, picking a potato out of the produce bowl on the counter. “You believe one good man can  _change_ the entire Seoul precinct.”

“I do  _not_ believe that,” says Sun.

Wolfgang raises a disbelieving eyebrow and sets a pan of water on the stove. He finishes his vodka, then pours more.

“Believe what you want,” he says, going through a cabinet of Indian spices, trying in vain to find some herbs he recognizes.

Sun sighs, finishing her espresso and setting the tiny cup aside. She looks around the apartment, which is dark, small, and nothing like her expansive, sunny flat in Seoul. Then she peaks her eyebrows at a new visitor -- Nomi, now sitting at the kitchen table. Wolfgang turns around and sees her, then downs his vodka and shakes his head.

“If we’re here,” says Nomi, “then you want us to be. That’s how this works.”

He ignores this, continuing to blunder through a half-memorized soup recipe for Kala. Nomi and Sun exchange a soft smile, watching him.

“It doesn’t go away,” says Nomi after a moment. “Those memories, they’ll never go away. It’s always been strange to me, how we can...forget the faces of our friends, forget our favorite toys, forget the addresses of our childhood homes. But none of us can seem to forget our most terrible memories.” She looks cautiously at Wolfgang’s turned back. “But then I think to myself...what if we did forget? How would we know what truly matters to us?” She swallows, glancing at Sun. “If I had forgotten how it felt when those boys held me under the water in the showers...I would never have realized...that I wasn’t  _me._ I never would have understood myself.” She pauses. “What happened to you is part of you. Take it. Use it.”

“You know better than anyone that wishing for the past to be different is useless,” adds Sun. “If you can’t change the past, do something about the future.”

Wolfgang searches through the cabinets for broth cubes, then lets his hands fall at his sides. He stands motionless for a moment.  _Take it. Use it._ Then he glances at Nomi and Sun and they notice a glimmer in his eyes -- glacial blue-green giving way to grey, a sign he’s made a decision. He nods softly.

They smile at him and nod in response. Then they both get to their feet, squeeze his shoulder, and disappear. He spends a few more minutes making soup and sipping vodka, mind finally insulated, safe from memories. He shuts off the stove, texts Felix a quick sorry, and then quietly opens the door to his and Kala’s room. She’s unexpectedly awake, rubbing honey-scented lotion into her legs and listening to the radio -- another out-of-date, analog appliance Wolfgang insists on having. She glances up at him and smiles warmly.

“Who were you talking to?” she asks.

“Sun and Nomi,” he says, sitting next to her on the bed and untying his boots. “How much did you hear?”

She shakes her head. “None of it.”

He nods, setting his boots to the side and leaning to kiss her gently.

“But I feel...what you feel,” she murmurs as he pulls away.

He nods again. She sniffles, nudging his nose with her own.

“Wolfgang, I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“I can’t change what happened,” he says in response, pulling off his shirt and tossing it into a chair nearby.

“No,” she whispers in agreement, tucking her hair over one shoulder.

She pulls him close again, nose to nose, and breathes out slowly while the sensations grip her -- big, clumsy fingers around her throat, the stench of alcohol in her nose; the sting of a belt and the brusque command to stay still; the deepening pain of a bruise on her stomach. She swallows, gently squeezes Wolfgang’s hands, and they take a breath.

“Do you remember…” she says softly, pausing to meet his gaze, “when I told you that you are the only one I have ever been able to say anything to?”

He nods.

“Well, I’m sure that I...am not the only one who feels this way,” she goes on, adding, “you make people feel safe. Somehow, I don’t understand why, people look at you and know that you...are loyal, and just, and uncompromising. If you as a child had someone like who you are now...everything may have been different.”

He nods again, eyes downcast. She puts her hands on either side of his face and gently lifts it so he looks at her. She kisses him and he smiles against her lips, unexpectedly full of longing. He puts his hands on her waist, tilting his head, asking for a deeper kiss. She murmurs her approval, warmth jumping in her fingers and toes at the brush of his tongue. She wraps her arms slowly around his shoulders, and he pulls back, only to nuzzle into her neck and kiss her there.

“Mm, sorry, I know you’re sick--”

“Then make me feel better,” she interrupts, eyes suddenly lively.

He chuckles after a moment, taken over. “I love you.”

She smiles. “I love you.”

He shakes his head, kissing her again and pulling her closer. “No, baby, I love you so much.” He kisses her another time. “I love you.”

Kala turns the color of a bright plum, shaking her head at the attention. “I love you, too.”

He smiles and presses a quick kiss to the side of her mouth. Then he pauses, lingering, and kisses her deeply again.

“Mm,” she says in approval, lying back, urging his body to follow hers.

They laugh softly against each other’s mouths, and then Kala turns on her side and snuggles against Wolfgang. She smiles and slides her nose against his, and he runs a hand down her back and over her ass. He slips his fingers in between her thighs and down her legs.

She breathes in, skin suddenly dewy with sweat. Then she pulls him on top of her as she rolls onto her back; he kisses a line down her neck and lifts up to pull the shirt she borrowed from him over her head. She flushes with color and warmth, glancing down at herself; she forgot she wasn’t wearing anything under the shirt.

He raises an eyebrow, then unbuttons her jeans and tugs them down.

“Good?” she murmurs.

“Mm,” he says in response, pressing against her as he kisses her so she can feel that he’s hard.

She moans happily, giving in to her urges, and reaches down to cradle his length in her hand. He rocks into her touch, groaning quietly, and then he looks down at her, studying the subtle goosebumps on her tummy, the dark tuft of hair visible through her lacy panties. He swallows the urge to slip his fingers inside of her, and her eyelids flutter, perceiving his thoughts.

“Go on,” she whispers, opening her legs and tilting her hips up.

He bites his bottom lip and grins. “I love it when you want it this badly.”

She blushes and looks down. “I always do…”

“Then I love it when you tell me,” he says, voice heavy and gruff with need. He rubs his fingers over her through her panties and she presses towards his touch, breath catching in her throat. “I like knowing what you like.”

“I like this,” she replies, breathy as he flicks his index finger against her through the thin fabric.

“What else?” he asks, tugging the lace aside and swiping over her folds with the pad of his thumb.

“Wolfgang,” she sighs, trailing off.

“Tell me,” he says, sliding a finger slowly into her.

“I can’t-can’t talk when you’re -- ah, oh, oh my God...”

He grins, pleased with himself as he massages the sensitive spot inside of her.

“I like this too,” she breathes, settling into the pillows and smiling indulgently, twitching her hips up, a soft, astonished wrinkle on her brow. “Wolfgang…”

He leans down and kisses her, a light brush of stubble and tongue. “Good?”

“You could make me come like this,” she admits in German -- she sometimes reverts to his language when she says things she normally doesn’t say.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, sliding his slippery fingers over her clit.

She breathes in sharply,  swallowing hard at the feeling. He pushes her legs further apart and tugs her jeans fully off.

“I wanted to make  _you_ feel good,” she says, sighing softly as he thumbs over her nipples and squeezes her breasts.

“Okay,” he says, eyes blazing and full of mischief.

He tosses her panties off the bed and presses her leg up. Then he unzips his pants and slides the head of his cock over her entrance. She shudders happily, eyes bright with anticipation; then she grins softly and puts her arms over her head, a gesture he loves. He laughs, pressing his face into her neck to kiss her; then he slides into her with a forceful thrust. She shuts her eyes, moaning, full of need.

“Do you like this?” he mumbles, pushing into her.

She nods, gasping another moan, reaching down to put her hands on his ass and urge him closer.

“I like this the best,” she admits quietly, pressing her chest up, breathing in hard. “I love you inside of me.”

He groans at the words, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. She moans again as he changes his angle and squeezes her hips; then he slows his pace, his mouth finds hers, and she moans more quietly, wrapping her arms around him.

“Keep kissing me,” she whispers, moving with him, sweat collecting on her brow and her collarbone.

He nods, kissing her; then he slips his arm around her, lifting her off of the bed, and she laughs and gasps in pleasure simultaneously.

“Relax,” he murmurs, so she lets her head fall back, lets her breasts arch upwards, lets her hips sink towards him. Then she reaches out a tentative foot, exploring how he feels inside of her when she stretches; she groans contentedly, then wraps her legs tightly around him, grinning, giving herself to the moment.

“Oh God,” she mumbles. “This is…”

“Fuck,” he says, just as quiet.

She lets out all her breath, dragging her hands over his back and pressing her head into the pillows, drenched. She sinks into the feeling, into the flashes of light playing on the backs of her eyelids, into the building wave of desperation. Wolfgang dips his head down, a bead of sweat collecting on the tip of his nose as he focuses on her heat around him. The weather breaks outside, a surge of rain and wind, just as Kala moans, voice crackling; her nails leave white imprints on Wolfgang’s shoulders. She tries to steady her breath, but her pulse pounds in her ears and she begins to throb around his cock, the start of an irrepressible wave.

“Oh, oh…” she moans, tightening her toes, eyes watering. “Oh, Wolfgang -- oh my God, oh my God…”

“Fuck, Kala…”

She gasps, then trembles, whining quietly against his mouth and nodding her approval.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she mumbles.

“Fuck,” he growls, kissing the side of her mouth, rocking hard into her in the last seconds before they come together.

They take a breath together after a moment, trembling, muscles spent. Then Kala grins softly, eyes still closed, and she reaches her arms around Wolfgang as they shift onto their sides. She looks at him, overbright eyes and restive fingertips, breath fluttering and chest shaking. She breathes out.

“I needed that,” she murmurs with a slight blush.

He nods, blinking slowly. “So did I.”

They kiss for a moment, lazy, deep kisses punctuated by overwhelmed laughter. Then Kala nudges her nose against his, smiling.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you,” he replies, running a hand through her hair.

***

The next morning, Kala gets up and wraps a robe around herself, then immediately sits down on the edge of the bed, head pounding, sinuses clogged.

“Oh no,” she murmurs, screwing her eyes shut and keeping back a wave of nausea.

Wolfgang turns over in bed and glances at her, a hand on her back. “Babe?”

“Oh,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair and sniffling. She rubs her hand over her throat, trying to swallow. “Oh, honey, I’m so sick. I’m so sick.” She coughs weakly into her arm. “Which means  _you_ are sick, there is at  _least_ a two day period prior to and after being sick in which it is possible to infect another person and considering last night...we…”

“Had sex,” he says he says with an unembarrassed shrug. “Great sex, by the way--”

“Do not flirt with me when I feel like vomiting.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She laughs, then coughs and groans. He wraps his arms around her from behind and kisses the back of her neck.

“Tea?” he asks.

She nods.

Another kiss. “Soup? I got drunk and made you soup last night.”

She laughs. “Of course you did. Yes, please. And an extra blanket. And my phone so I can listen to my podcasts… and call my work...and…” She trails off, coughing.

He kisses the side of her head. “Shh, I’ll stay home with you.” He hugs her. “Give me a minute.”

She smiles, sniffling and moaning in pain as she shifts back into bed. “Oh, it’s the flu, isn’t it? Oh, it is...everything hurts…”

“I’ll get you something,” he assures her, getting out of bed and tugging his boxers up on his hips.

He walks into the kitchen and hastily pours some soup into a bowl, then goes in search of some Ibuprofen while the soup heats in the microwave. He puts a slice of lemon in the tea she requested, which his mother used to do for him. When he goes back into their room, he finds Kala curled up on her side.

“I should have let you go to bed last night,” he says.

She smiles weakly. “Oh, I think we can both agree that I started it.”

He chuckles, setting down the soup and tea. She rolls over to take the drugs out of his hand, popping them into her mouth and swallowing them with the tea. He takes a pair of her thickest socks out of the dresser they share and she sticks her foot playfully in the air, asking him to put the socks on for her. He laughs and does so, then sits next to her while she spoons the soup into her mouth 

“This is good,” she murmurs.

“Would you like some boiled beer to go with it?” he jokes.

“Oh, Germans have strange traditions,” she sighs and shakes her head.

He smiles, moving her hair out of her face while she eats. He sits behind her, running his hands through her curls and kissing the back of her head. Then he smirks to himself and separates her hair into three sections.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs.

“Braiding your hair,” he says simply.

She tilts her head down and laughs weakly. “Oh no.” Then she smiles, touched, and glances at him over her shoulder. “You’re sweet.”

He smiles slightly, turning her head so she’s looking straight. She laughs again, then closes her eyes, savoring the flavor of the soup and the feeling of his rough fingers in her hair. He’s just reached for a stray hairband on the bedside table when his phone buzzes and he glances at it.

He stops, staring.

“Kala,” he mumbles, fingertips suddenly numb with surprise.

She glances at him, frowning slightly. “Wolfgang?”

“I got the job,” he says in disbelief.

He shows her the text on his phone and her hands jump to her mouth.

“Oh my God,” she gasps. “Are you -- are you going to take it?”

He nods, smiling slightly, and takes the phone from her.

She grins. “Good.”

He smiles in response, texting an answer to the offer. Then he throws the phone aside and hugs her from behind. They stay like this for a moment, Kala repeatedly blowing her nose and coughing, Wolfgang resting his head on her shoulder and listening to the beat of her heart deep in her chest. Then he nuzzles the back of her ear and squeezes her.

“Kala?” he asks softly. “After a while, you want to move to Paris?”

She looks at him in surprise. Then a steady, sure smile finds her lips. She nods.

“I’ve wanted to for a long time,” she admits.

He nods, and they go back to comfortable silence, watching the windy morning outside of their window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Schmalzkuchen = tiny fried donuts
> 
> There is no way the soup Wolfgang made is good. Luckily Kala's sinuses are clogged and she can't taste anything.


	19. September 19, 9:18 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang have a snowball fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It almost never snows in September in Germany but it's not impossible ;)

Kala wakes Wolfgang up by hovering over him, dotting kisses along his jaw and down his neck. He fights a smile, wanting to convince her he’s still asleep.

“I see that,” she murmurs, tapping her fingers on his lips. “Wake up. It’s snowing. And I want to go outside. And win a snowball fight.”

“Win?” he asks, smiling now, blinking sleepily.

She twitches an eyebrow. “Of course.” 

He laughs and puts his arms around her. “C’mere, go back to sleep…” 

She shakes her head, though she does let him pull her close and contentedly snuggles her face into his neck.

“Mm, you’re warm,” she mumbles.

He glances at her as he runs his hands down her chilly arms. “How long have you been up?”

She reflects on the morning of making pancakes and smiles gently. “A while...I saw it had snowed and wasn’t able to sleep again.”

“How old are you?” he teases.

“It’s Saturday,” she whines. “At _least_ get up and have pancakes with me.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You made pancakes?”

She smiles, slipping out of his arms and rolling her eyes. She pulls him to his feet and he looks at her for a moment -- she’s still in the light pink nightgown from last night and her hair is still wild from sleep.

“Aren’t you freezing?” he questions.

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “But I didn’t want to come back in here and wake you up until now.”

“You wouldn’t have woken me up,” he says, reaching to hand her a long sleeve shirt that she draped over a chair last night.

She stretches to kiss him and murmurs, “Yes, I would have. You’re a very light sleeper.”

“At least one of us would wake up if someone breaks in,” he remarks. “You’d sleep through the apocalypse.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “It’s from sleeping so much in my father’s restaurant. I always slept through the lunch apocalypse.”

He grins and kisses her. “Why’d you make pancakes?”

“Can’t I make you pancakes sometimes?”

“Fuck, yes,” he says, then searches for a pair of pants. “Why was I so against girlfriends?”

She grins. “Because they all bored you. Except for me.”

He can only nod honestly at this. “Except for you.”

She smiles, trailing her hands behind her as she turns around, pulling him into the kitchen. He glances outside at the snow, unusual for September, and she plates up pancakes with apricot preserves Riley’s father sent from Iceland. Then she taps her fingernails against the glass of the coffee press, smiling.

“I think…” she says dramatically as she pours him a mug, “that I have finally perfected the coffee. Not too weak, not too strong.” Then she laughs. “Oh, I’m becoming my father. One of my first brushes with anything particularly Western was Goldilocks because my Aunt would tease my father that he was too picky like Goldilocks, that he never thought anything was just right.” Then she flashes a grin. “Except for his daughters.”

Wolfgang, still sleepy and unable to disguise emotions well, shakes his head and smiles. He’s spent the last two weeks inseparable from Kala, yet still seems to miss her when she’s right next to him. He only ever wants more.

He closes the gap between them and takes the plate out of her hands. He kisses her quickly.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, adding, “I’ll feel guilty now when I win that snowball fight.”

“You will inevitably miscalculate,” she says, walking with the coffee and her own plate to the table. “You’re too reckless, you’ll run out of ammunition...and you will beg for mercy."

He sits down. “I can’t picture that.”

She sighs. “No, neither can I. You’ll lose honorably. Like a soldier.”

He snorts and takes a bite of pancakes. Kala watches his face, then grins and nudges him softly.

“Good?” she asks.

He nods, squeezing her knee under the table, and her grin fades to an affectionate smile as she looks at him.

“I like making you happy,” she says quietly, gaze unwavering.

 _You make me so happy._ He doesn’t voice the thought, but it reaches her in their shared mind nonetheless, and she leans forward and kisses him.

“So,” she says after a moment, sipping her coffee and setting her legs on his lap under the table. “Because their wedding is on a Friday, and we took Monday off...I was wondering if you would like to stop in Paris on the way back?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Maybe we could look for an apartment,” she adds in a murmur. “I know we’re staying here this year, but…”

“No, I’d like that,” he tells her.

She nods. They eat breakfast quietly for a few minutes, Wolfgang thumbing over the smooth skin of Kala’s knee. She takes a breath, sinking in the taste of apricot, the warmth of the kitchen, the bright coffee on her tongue, his steady touch. She’s just licked the dark syrup of apricots off her finger when the unseasonable snow intensifies.

“We should go,” she says, jumping to her feet and taking the plates away. “I want you to show me that spot by the river!” she calls from the kitchen.

He gets up to get dressed, and she comes into their bedroom a few moments later to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his boots. She sits down next to him and braids her hair over one shoulder, then goes in search of warm clothes, which she realizes she needs to buy more of.

Ten minutes later, having made the bed and put the dishes away, they step out of the apartment and into the bright morning.

The sidewalk outside hasn’t been shoveled yet and Kala nudges Wolfgang.

“You should shovel,” she tells him. “That nice lady next door, you know, the very elderly one? She would appreciate it.”

“That lady hates me,” replies Wolfgang.

“That lady has every right, I can’t _imagine_ what kind of neighbor you were before me.”

“I was quiet,” he says defensively.

“And unfriendly,” Kala points out.

“I’m still unfriendly,” he retorts.

“Precisely why you should shovel the sidewalk…”

Wolfgang snorts and puts an arm around her waist while they walk. She tilts her face up towards the snow, smiling and giggling every time a flake hits her. Then she gasps indignantly when a drop of sooty water dribbles off a roof and lands on her neck..

Wolfgang shakes with silent laughter and Kala glares at him, shivering.

“Oh, I’m _freezing_ now,” she complains. “I want hot chocolate…”

Wolfgang gestures at a nearby coffee and tea shop and Kala beams.

“I love Berlin, this city was made for me, it anticipates everything I want,” she says excitedly. “Though perhaps I love Berlin because _you_ do, sometimes I have difficulty separating which feelings are yours and which are mine. Although sometimes it’s fairly obvious,” she goes on as they cross the street, “because your feelings can be more intense than mine. Especially about certain things.” She opens the door to the shop, still chatting. “Felix, for example. Sometimes I feel so spontaneously affectionate towards Felix. Sometimes I desperately crave a cigarette, which is very inconvenient.”

Wolfgang laughs. “Sorry.”

She smiles at him while they wait in line. “Do you notice that? With my feelings?”

He thinks for a moment. Then he nods. “I notice it because I’m...kinder to myself. That’s you.”

She brightens, squeezing his hand. “Good.” Then she smiles. “I notice you in that way too. I’m more honest with myself since being with you. I’m less likely to...put everyone’s needs above my own.”

They step up to the front of the line and Kala orders; the barista compliments her on her German and Wolfgang rolls his eyes-- Kala gets at least one compliment every day, and he’s waited through numerous conversations where enthusiastic Berliners ask her how she learned so well and thank her for being so considerate of the native language.

They wait by the counter for their drinks and Kala presses closer to Wolfgang to keep warm.

“Although,” she says, continuing the thread from earlier, “I _do_ have to go see Daya. My mother will never forgive me if I don’t visit my sister while she’s having her first child. And Auntie has informed me that it’s bad luck for a baby to come if all the family members haven’t touched the mother’s tummy. She says the baby won’t know that it is loved otherwise. As if babies can process such a complex emotion.”

“What did babies ever do to you?” he jokes as their drinks appear on the bar.

“I have nothing against babies,” says Kala, wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck as they walk to the door, “although they do look at me like they...know something.”

Without thinking, he replies, “Babies are like horses, they know when you’re afraid.”

Kala looks at him for a moment. “Babies...are like horses?”

He nods, trying not to laugh. “They are. Just smaller.”

“How do you know what _horses_ are like, let alone babies?”

“My uncle had horses when I was younger,” he explains. “Felix would come over and give them apples with Katrina. She loved horses.”

Kala smiles, amused, and bumps her hip against him as they walk through the deepening snow and cling to their drinks.

“It’s funny what details we remember,” she remarks softly. Then she laughs. “Katrina. How did that end?”

“She fell in love with Stefan Weber,” reflects Wolfgang, laughing too.

“Oh, poor Felix,” sighs Kala.

“Felix didn’t care,” says Wolfgang. “He was tired of her. By then he liked...fuck, what was her name? Sabine Klein, that was it.”

“Isn’t it amazing how much our minds retain?” says Kala softly. “I remember the names of all of my teachers, and all of my favorite books…”

“I only remember because Felix couldn’t shut up about her for weeks,” says Wolfgang. “I couldn’t relate, I never liked anyone.”

Kala looks up in interest. “No, neither did I. Daya, oh my goodness, she was so in love with this pop singer Sonu Nigam...she would wake me up in the middle of the night to cry about him. I _nearly_ killed her.”

“Felix too, he’d show up in the middle of the night with beer so he could brag.”

Kala laughs. “Providing details that I am _sure_ you didn’t want.”

Wolfgang makes a disgusted noise of agreement and Kala laughs.

“I know the feeling. I feel I know more about Daya’s first kiss than my own first kiss,” she replies. “She was sixteen, and she was so proud, and we had to hide it from our mother.” She nudges him as they walk down a set of stairs to the train platform. “What was your first kiss like?”

He hesitates and she notices a faint color on his cheeks. “Innocent peck or real kiss?”

“Both, I’m greedy,” she says with a playful grin.

"First one, I was seven and I split my lunch with this girl at school because she forgot hers. So she kissed me.”

Kala’s smiles, full of warmth. “That’s very sweet.”

“Real one,” he goes on as the train pulls up, “I was...fourteen, cutting class, smoking outside...and Hannah Keller came over to ask for a cigarette...and being a fourteen-year-old with even less impulse control than I have now--" 

Kala groans in anticipation. "Oh no..."

Wolfgang grins. "I asked her if I could kiss her. It was the first thing out of my mouth."

“She walked up to you, asked for a cigarette...and you gave her one and said _can I kiss you_?”

He nods. “Yes. I wanted to see if it would work. Easier than giving girls gifts like Felix.”

"Very romantic," says Kala as they step onto the train.

"She said yes. So I kissed her.” He starts to laugh, struggling to speak clearly. "But then she told me only girls smoked my brand of cigarettes and walked away."

Kala covers her mouth with both hands. "Oh no.”

"Yes, so I bought new cigarettes,” he goes on, sitting down across from her on the train, “and avoided Hannah in the hallways for a few weeks."

"You bought new cigarettes?” gasps Kala. “You let Hannah Keller change you?"

"It was humiliating," he says defensively. “And she was right."

Kala shakes her head, delighted by the embarrassing story. Then she leans closer and murmurs, “Did you see her again?”

He hesitates.

“Oh, of _course_ you did,” says Kala, pretending to be scandalized.

He covers his face briefly, laughing. “Yeah. Many times.”

Kala shakes her head, then pulls him closer by his shirt and kisses him gently.

“You’re blushing,” she tells him as she pulls away.

“Am not,” he argues halfheartedly.

They look at each other for a moment, amused, and then the train slides to a stop and he nudges her. They get off the train and hurry up the steps into an expansive plaza, bordered by icy trees. The continue down a brick path past a copper-domed church, towards the river.

Kala sighs. “God could drop me from the sky over Berlin and wherever I would land would be beautiful. There are gorgeous buildings _everywhere_.” She glances at him. “I can’t imagine growing up here, seeing this city everyday...do you get tired of it?”

“No, though I didn’t realize how much I love it here until I came back.”

She nods and they continue over a snowy, silent bridge to cross the river. The city is quiet this early on a cold weekend. They grip hands more tightly when they turn and see the familiar riverbank, and Kala stands still for a moment.

“Why did you visit that day?” asks Wolfgang quietly.

She glances at him and frowns. “I’m not sure. What were you feeling?”

He shrugs. “I was thinking about you.”

“What were you thinking about?” she murmurs.

Another shrug. “Nothing really. Just missed you.”

Kala smiles apologetically and squeezes his hand. Then she pulls him along the path, under a bridge, and towards the tree that she found him sitting under that day.

“It all could have been different,” she whispers as they look out on the river together, the blue picking up the first warm light of morning through the gaps in the nearby buildings. “It all could have been different if I…”

“Don’t,” says Wolfgang gently. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“I think it matters a great deal,” replies Kala with a sigh.

“It’s the past,” he says.

She nods after a while, then looks at him with warm, hopeful eyes. “Sometimes when I wake up, it still takes me a moment to remember I’m in Berlin with you, and every time I remember I feel I couldn’t be luckier.”

She smiles and he smiles back, about to take her waist, but she steps away.

“But as much as I love you, and as lucky as I feel, I am still going to _demolish_ you in this snowball fight."

He grins, surprised by this twist. She skips away, gathers snow, then throws a huge snowball at him. He stares at her, feigning offense, and she beams. One minute later, the quiet riverside is pandemonium -- Kala screaming and gasping, Wolfgang swearing and laughing. Kala takes refuge behind a bench and collects a pile of snowballs, storing them as ammunition, and Wolfgang glances at her from behind a tree which is entirely too small to protect him.

“If you surrender now, I will take pity on you!” Kala shouts dramatically.

“I never surrender when I should, you know that,” he calls back, ducking as she lobs a hard-packed snowball at him.

She fixes him with a stare and raises a single, wicked eyebrow. Then she shakes her head as if reflecting on his stupidity - he grins, taking in her expression - and stands up to throw three snowballs at him, rapid-fire. One hits him in the face and she gasps, hands jumping to cover her mouth, watching to see if he recovers.

When he looks up, she recognizes the expression on his face -- it’s the one he wears when he’s about to do something particularly disrespectful. She backs up, but not in time to dodge the massive snowball he had been hiding behind his back. It hits her squarely in the chest and she shivers as the ice crystals slide into her shirt.

“Oh, how _dare_ you!” she yells, ignoring the glances from onlookers, all who seem to be wondering why two adults are having such a fierce snowball fight.

“You thought I was going to let you win?” he scoffs.

She puts her hands on her hips, staring fiercely at him. Then she notices that he’s standing under a branch that is heavy with snow, and she smirks.

She sighs dramatically. “I thought you would let me win.” She starts to bridge the distance  between them, taking her time. “I _am_ your girlfriend.” She keeps walking. “The only one you’ve ever had.” She sighs again as she reaches the tree. “You would think that a man in your position would be more...careful.” Then she frowns and points to the branch above him. “What’s that?”

He looks up and she shakes the tree hard, then darts away to avoid the downpour of snow. He swears and puts his arms over his head for cover, but not in time to avoid being covered in wet globs of snow and ice from the tree above.

Kala watches, laughing into her hands, gleeful. Then her eyes widen in alarm -- he’s recovered and started to walk steadily towards her. She knows she should run, but she remains frozen to the spot, and when he reaches her, he tilts his head in thought.

“What should I do to you?” he asks, hooking his finger in the belt of her jacket.

She meets his eyes, heart fluttering. “Something nice.”

He raises his eyebrows, then wordlessly lifts her in his arms and dumps her into a drift nearby. She gasps, fighting to get out of the deep snow, laughing breathlessly and trembling from the cold. He grins triumphantly, but then she grabs his hand and yanks him into the drift with her, and they both end up stuck in the snow, laughing.

She touches her nose to his nose and smirks gently. “Who won?”

He shakes his head and kisses her in response. She smiles against his lips, tilting her face up to kiss him deeply, and he hugs her against him. They break apart, laughing softly, and then Kala nudges her nose hard against his.

“This is our tradition now,” she says, eyes alight with humor and heat. “On the first snow of the year, wherever we are, for as long as we live, we have to have a snowball fight.”

He nods, smiling softly, and kisses her again. She gives into a longer, more heated kiss, and only pulls away when an elderly man shouts, “This is a public park, not your bedroom!”

Kala dissolves into a fit of endless giggles and Wolfgang covers his face and laughs, pleased with himself.

The old man walks away, grumbling, “ _Teenagers_.”

This doesn’t help Kala stop laughing and she gasps for air. Wolfgang, also unable to stop laughing, finally pulls her to her feet. She leans against him, still shaking, and only stops giggling when she realizes how cold she is.

“Oh God, I need coffee,” she says desperately. “And a _bath_.”

He nods in agreement and they take hands, stumbling off the snowy bank and back onto the path.

 

 


	20. September 19, 1:07 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang face an unpleasant surprise.

Kala and Wolfgang come up from the train, laughing and shivering, hurrying over the icy sidewalk for refuge in their apartment. But Kala stops outside the door, noticing a familiar voice within.

“--said this was her address, and I sent her some of her things here, so I imagine it must be! Perhaps she’s out?”

 _Daya_. And if Daya is here, she’s sure her parents are too.

She looks at Wolfgang, mortified. His eyes widen slightly and he glances into the building through the window of the entrance, but she pulls him back. She meets his eyes frantically, undecided, and then throws a nervous glance towards the door.

“Why would they do this?” she whispers desperately. “No one likes surprises!”

He shakes his head in response. She sighs.

She knows the moment they see her and Wolfgang together, they will deduce the truth. She also knows it would be unconvincing to pretend otherwise or to pretend the apartment is hers and send Wolfgang away for a few hours -- evidence of a couple living together is everywhere in the apartment.

“On a Saturday morning?” says another voice. Her mother’s. “Perhaps she is listening to music. Try knocking again, Ina.”

Kala’s heart accelerates. _Auntie_ , _surely the incarnation of a demon come to shame me._

Then comes her father’s voice, “She probably went to the store for breakfast ingredients, let’s wait for a few more minutes…”

“But it is so cold!” complains Daya.

Kala looks at Wolfgang, unable to draw a breath.

“Kala,” he says gently after a moment. “This had to happen eventually.”

“Yes, in a year!” she whispers. “When they’ve had proper time to recover from Rajan! Oh, they’re going to think I’m…” She wilts at the possibilities and trails off. “What do we do?”

“Impossible to lie,” says Wolfgang. “They’re at our apartment.”

“Okay. But we’re not sleeping together,” she says as she takes the first step towards the door.

“We’re living together in a one-bedroom,” he remarks.

“Oh God,” she says in despair. “I have to tell them the truth about us. I love you, we’re planning the rest of our lives together...I can’t introduce you with a lie.”

He nods. She looks at him with dark, steely eyes and takes a breath. Then they walk into their building and her family comes into view, all clustered around their door.

Daya is the first to see Kala and she screams, running up to her sister and throwing her arms around her.

“Kala! There you are, oh there’s my sister! I missed my sister!” She rocks back and forth, then steps back to look at Kala. “Aren’t you surprised? You don’t look surprised! Did you hear us talking? I _told_ you three to keep it down!” She rolls her eyes. “Mom and Auntie are so loud. Anyway, you’re beautiful, you look _radiant_ , I missed you!” Then she notices Wolfgang and her eyes widen. She looks intensely at her sister. “Who...who is this?”

Kala takes a breath and steps off the cliff. “This is...my boyfriend.”

Daya’s eyes darken. “No.”

Kala swallows and nods unsurely.

Daya breathes out. “Oh no. Oh my God. Kala.” She frowns. “He’s already visiting you at your apartment? You’ve only been single for a month!”

Kala squeezes Daya’s arms, postponing the answer. She greets her parents and aunt with tight hugs, but they all look suspiciously at Wolfgang, distracted. Wolfgang forces his feet to move and he holds out his hand for Sanyam to shake.

Sanyam shakes it, but frowns slightly and turns to his daughter. “Kala, who is this?”

“This is Wolfgang,” Kala says, voice trembling. “Dad, I know this may be a surprise and I’m sure you will all find it premature, but he’s the kindest man I’ve ever known and he’s helped me through everything with Rajan...we are...um...we’re dating.”

Ina’s eyes widen in unmistakable horror and she puts a hand over her mouth. Priya stands still, as if shot. Sanyam takes a surprised breath, but manages to smile at Wolfgang.

“Nice to meet you,” he says in Hindi.

“Nice to meet you,” replies Wolfgang.

Sanyam looks again at Kala. “He speaks Hindi?”

“He learned for me,” explains Kala.

Sanyam softens slightly at this, though he doesn’t understand how he could learn so well in such little time; then he looks at his wife and sister-in-law, who gesture at him to communicate their shock and confusion. Daya stands nearby with a hand over her heart, enjoying the drama.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” says Wolfgang quietly, adding to Daya, “I heard you’re having a baby, congratulations.”

Daya smiles, lips twitching nervously. “Thank you.”

“Learning?” asks Sanyam with a tiny smile. He looks at Wolfgang. “Your Hindi is very good.”

Wolfgang smiles. “Thank you.”

For a moment, it seems possible that the afternoon will go smoothly. Then Ina bursts out, “You are _dating_ this man?”

Kala nods. “Yes, Auntie.”

“You thoughtless girl! You have been divorced for a month! How could you do this to Rajan? To _us_?”

“Ina, please,” says Priya, but her voice is hollow. “Let Kala explain herself.” She turns to her daughter with a storm in her eyes. “Explain yourself.”

Sanyam claps his hands together. “Alright, why don’t we go inside for some nice tea?”

Kala nods gratefully, then glances at Wolfgang, who hesitates when he realizes he has the keys. He pulls them out of his pocket and everyone watches, speechless.

“Why does he have keys?” Daya whispers to her sister. “Kala, I thought you said this is your apartment...”

Kala swallows. “No, I said it is my address. Which it is. But it is _our_ apartment.”

Daya stares at her sister, then pulls her back while Wolfgang unlocks the door.

"Are you having sex with him?" she whispers. "I can hardly blame you, he _is_ delicious--”

Kala’s eyes widen in alarm. “Daya!”

“I may be married but I have _eyes_. Are you sleeping together?”

"I'm -- " Kala sighs and cuts herself off. "We live together, Daya, what do you think?

Daya almost laughs. "Oh, Kala. Kala, mom is going to _faint_."

Kala nods, close to tears, and pulls Daya with her inside the small apartment. She watches her family look around in shock at the sparse surroundings.

“This...this is _your_ apartment?” checks Priya, looking at a shelf of books, half of them in Russian.

“This is Wolfgang’s apartment,” replies Kala. She takes a breath.  “I’ve been staying here.”

Priya stares, then hastily shifts her purse higher on her shoulder and goes toward the door. “I believe I need to take a walk.”

“So do I,” says Ina, nostrils flaring. She looks directly at Kala as she leaves. “Who would have guessed? A tramp in our own family!”

Kala’s eyes widen and she feels a flicker of rage in Wolfgang’s chest.

“Ina, that was very uncalled for!” shouts Sanyam as she passes through the door with Priya, adding with a sigh, “Priya, she is your daughter!”

The door clicks shut.

The sound echoes in Kala’s mind and she sits down in the nearest chair, suddenly weak. She takes off her coat and Wolfgang does the same. Then she tucks her wet hair behind her ears and blinks slowly. Wolfgang squeezes her shoulder and she covers his hand with her own.

She looks up at her father, imploring him to break the silence.

“I apologize for your aunt,” says Sanyam brusquely. “I am sure she will take her words back later.”

“I suppose I should explain,” Kala says softly, sick to her stomach.

“That is a good idea,” says Sanyam, voice clipped but still warm. He breathes out, gaze flitting over the apartment. “You just rest a moment, I will make tea.”

He goes into the kitchen, leaving Kala, Daya, and Wolfgang alone in the living room.

“I speak English,” Daya says slowly to Wolfgang. “Do...you...speak...English?”

“Yes, I do. But I speak Hindi well enough.”

Daya wrinkles her brow. “How did you learn so quickly?”

“We’ll explain everything,” replies Kala.

Wolfgang sits down next to her, putting a protective arm around her and watching Daya cautiously. Daya frowns at him.

“What? I am not old-fashioned like mother and auntie. _My_ husband and I?” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “We tried some things before our wedding night. Most young people do! I am a bit hurt on Rajan’s behalf, of course, but I want my sister to be happy.” She looks meaningfully at Wolfgang. “She was never happy with Rajan...no wonder, he was very mixed up in a criminal affair, can you believe?” She looks back at Kala. “And I _am_ a bit hurt that you overshadowed _my_ news. I am having a baby, you know. Do you want to feel? Here, feel.” She grabs Kala’s hand and presses it to her tummy, then says to it, “This is your Auntie Kala, baby. She’s in very big trouble right now.” Daya looks at Kala. “Whatever you do, don’t get pregnant before you are married. It would kill mom. It would kill her, Kala.”

“Oh, you know how I feel about that,” Kala says feebly. “Don’t worry.” She forces a smile. “Your tummy feels the same, _chhotii bahan_ *.”

Daya sighs. “I know. But he’s in there. Anyway, how did you meet?"

Kala looks at her sister with narrowed eyes. “Daya...are you…” She takes a breath, brow wrinkled in confusion. “You’re not terribly angry with me?”

Daya presses her lips together and smiles gently. “Oh, Kala. Mother and Auntie saw how you looked before your wedding. They’ve lied to themselves. But I am your sister, and I couldn’t lie to myself. I knew it wasn’t a love marriage.”

“But you seemed so excited,” murmurs Kala.

She nods. “I wanted to put on a brave face for you, because I knew you would never change your mind. But I saw how...how _terrified_ you were, Kala. Already, I see you are more at ease here."

A few tears spill over Kala’s lower lashes and she nods. “Thank you.”

Wolfgang gives her a small squeeze, and she glances up at him and snuggles closer.

“Oh dear,” sighs Daya. “Mom will come around. Auntie, who knows. But mom will. Now, will someone answer my question?”

“Tea is ready,” announces Sanyam from the kitchen, looking around the doorway. He smiles gently. “I am glad to see some things do not change. I see you still get the same chai.”

Kala has to smile. “It took me several tries to find it here.”

“I imagine,” replies Sanyam.

Daya, Kala, and Wolfgang get up and go into the kitchen. Wolfgang, abruptly in the presence of Kala’s father, is stiff with nerves. Kala, still nauseated, gently nudges him and they sit down at the table next to Daya. Sanyam sets a tray of tea on the table.

“I am sorry about your mother,” says Sanyam to Kala. “Although I imagine this is quite challenging for her. I admit, this was a...surprise.”

Kala nods apologetically. “We didn’t know you were coming.”

“We,” says Sanyam, pausing for effect, “didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

Kala smiles at her father’s attempt to be dramatic. She takes the cream off the tray and doctors her tea with it, then hands Wolfgang a cup of plain black tea.

“That is how my father took it,” says Sanyam, gesturing at the plain tea.

Wolfgang smiles and nods.

Daya takes a sip of tea and says to her father, “We were just discussing how Kala and...what is it, Wolfgang? Am I pronouncing that correctly?”

He shrugs. “It’s with a V sound, but Kala doesn’t say it that way, so I like it better without it.”

“What an interesting name,” says Daya. “Anyway, we were discussing how they met.”

Kala and Wolfgang look at each other for a brief moment, debating, then Kala nods.

“Two years ago, I was in Mumbai on a trip,” he says. “And I couldn’t get her off my mind.”

Daya gasps. “Before the first wedding?”

Kala nods, not looking at her father. “Before the first wedding.”

Sanyam sits down and shakes his head slightly. Kala looks at him and notices his hair is distinctly whiter than she remembers it.

“Is this why,” he says slowly, “you came to the restaurant that day, and you asked me what it meant...to follow your heart even if it meant hurting someone?”

Kala nods softly. “You know me very well.”

Sanyam smiles and shrugs. “You are my daughter. Of course I do.” Then he smiles. "Remember that I mentioned your doll?"

Kala sniffles and nods. "I do."

"He is the doll, isn't he?" asks Sanyam with a slight smirk.

Kala laughs. "He is."

Wolfgang realizes he had an incomplete understanding of Sanyam’s compassion. He looks at Kala, then at her father, grateful.

“This is easier to understand,” Sanyam goes on, stirring sugar into his tea. “If you have loved him all this time, it only makes sense you would want to be together as quickly as possible.” He glances at Wolfgang, then at Kala. “Would you translate, Kala?"

Kala smiles. “He speaks very well Dad, I’m sure he understood.”.

“But _how_ did you meet?” asks Daya.

Kala and Wolfgang look at each other again, and this time Kala speaks.

“Karaoke night,” she murmurs. “I went with friends from work. You know how popular that bar is with _paryaṭaka**_.”

Daya raises an eyebrow at Wolfgang excitedly. “Can you sing?”

Kala and Wolfgang’s responses overlap -- hers an emphatic _yes_ , his a self-conscious no.

“But my mother could,” he adds. “It’s why I like it.”

“She is a singer?” asks Sanyam.

“She passed away,” replies Wolfgang. “But she loved to sing.”

Sanyam nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” says Wolfgang.

“So we exchanged numbers,” Kala goes on. “And our worlds were so different, and I knew I should marry Rajan, but…” She takes a steadying breath. “I don’t mean to be too honest, but there aren’t other words.” She shrugs, eyes wet. “I fell in love with him. _Ages_ ago. I’ve been so stupid.”

Sanyam looks at his daughter for a moment. “I thought it might be something like this.” He sips his tea and adds, “I saw Rajan recently. He is okay, Kala. He knew, too. Deep down, he knew.”

“How-how can you be so calm?” Kala breathes.

Sanyam shrugs and sets his tea aside. “Because I trust you to do what is right. If you are with this man, it is right.”

Kala nods, crying again. Daya pats her back, smiling.

“Stop, I’m the one with the frayed hormones,” she says.

Kala laughs weakly. “I’m sorry.” Then she looks up, and once she feels Wolfgang’s hand around hers, she goes on, “I _am_ sorry. I am so sorry. I’ve put you and mom through so much, and I never explained myself. I owed you that, and I cannot take it back. I wanted to make you happy but I...I’m beginning to understand how that can hurt people.” She sniffles and glances at Wolfgang. “Certainly you. And myself. I should have been honest.”

Sanyam smiles after a moment. “I imagine it was difficult. As you said. Different worlds.”

Kala nods. “It was.” She glances again at Wolfgang, then murmurs, “I would like to find mom…”

This is what we will do,” says Sanyam, putting down his tea. “You find your mother, and the three of us will make dinner.”

Sirens blare in Wolfgang’s mind.

“Good idea, Dad,” Kala says quietly.

Wolfgang looks at Kala with wide eyes and she pats his leg under the table.

“We don’t bite,” says Daya, adding, “well, not much.”

“Be nice,” Kala murmurs aggressively to Daya, who nods.

Kala gets up and goes into the living room, searching for her coat. Wolfgang excuses himself and follows her, catching her as she goes for the door. He puts a hand on her waist and searches her expression. Her eyes fill.

“Trust me,” she says, throat tight. “You have the easier job with my father and my sister.” She sniffles. “I’m sure my mother won’t speak to me for weeks.”

Wolfgang shakes his head. “She will, she’ll understand.”

Kala shrugs softly, eyes downcast. Then she and Wolfgang look up at a visitor -- Will, in his pajamas. He looks at both of them, brow slightly wrinkled, eyes bright and cautious.

“You two okay? I woke up with…” He trails off. “Nervous energy.”

“My parents dropped in on us,” explains Kala in a whisper.

Will relaxes. “Oh, yeah, that can be tough.”

“Tough?” whispers Kala. “These are two elderly Indian people who _just_ learned about my divorce. They aren’t Gunnar!”

Will nods slowly. “That’s true.” He glances over their shoulders into the kitchen, getting a peek at Daya and Sanyam. “They don’t seem angry.”

“No, it’s my mother and my aunt,” sighs Kala. “They left when they realized we’re living together.”

Will nods. “I’m sorry.” He squeezes Kala’s arm. “Look, as hard as it would be, it only matters that you and Wolfgang are happy together. They don’t have to approve of anything.”

Wolfgang glances gratefully at Will and adds, “This is going better than meeting my parents would have gone.”

Kala laughs at this and sniffles. She nods. “Okay.”

“How about this?” adds a new voice -- Nomi, putting an arm around Kala. “Why don’t I walk with you? I can find your mom through the GPS on her phone, and you won’t be alone that way.”

Kala nods thankfully, then looks for a last time at Wolfgang. She gently pats his cheek.

“Honey, you have that trapped expression on your face,” she tells him.

He puts on a smile and she laughs again.

“Better,” she says, and she kisses him quickly goodbye.

When he returns to the kitchen, he spots Lito in the corner in his characteristic blue onesie, drinking an espresso. _In case you need to lie_ , explains Lito. Wolfgang forces his gaze away from Lito, preferring not to come off as a complete dingbat in front of Kala’s family. Already he feels Daya’s curious eyes on him, wondering what he was looking at.

“I imagine my sister does all the cooking,” says Daya, stepping over to her father to help measure some spices.

“Most of it,” agrees Wolfgang, adding, “I heard she learned from the best.”

“That’s nice of you,” says Sanyam with a smile. “Here, could you cut this onion? I think we will make some masoor dal because it is so chilly here. I do not know how my daughter can stand it. Have you always lived here?”

Wolfgang’s fingers twitch in discomfort. He envisions the afternoon of small talk and dreams of having a drink, or several. Lito pats his shoulder bracingly.

“I have, yeah,” he says, stepping beside Daya, taking the onion from Sanyam, and reaching for a knife.

“Interesting, you must have been born before the wall came down, yes?” Sanyam goes on, sorting through some lentils.

Wolfgang nods. “Just before it.”

“I see,” says Sanyam, nudging Daya and directing her to slice a chili. “Those must have been unique times, afterwards.”

Wolfgang groans internally before reminding himself that this is Kala’s father, the only one she has, the man who’s going to be his father-in-law eventually. He knows he has to keep up a conversation. He feels Lito’s eyes on him, urging him to respond.

“They were,” he says, shifting the chopped onion into a bowl nearby. “My family lived in East Berlin and they were Russian, except for my mother, so the West Germans didn’t want us in the city at first. A lot of resentment on both sides.”

“It was a fascinating moment,” says Sanyam.

Daya rolls her eyes at Wolfgang and murmurs, “Ignore him, he loves to talk about global affairs.”

Wolfgang smiles slightly. “I don’t mind.”

“I remember, Kala was...one year old, and she was sick, and Priya sat with her in the kitchen for hours watching the news come in. I’ve never seen anything like it. Kala was _captivated_ , she watched the television like she understood what was happening.” Sanyam chuckles. “Of course, no one in the restaurant could look away from the television. We did the best business of the year that day.”

Wolfgang nods. “I can imagine. My mother could hear the crowds from our apartment.” _But my father wouldn’t let her go outside to watch._ Lito clears his throat loudly, urging Wolfgang to say more than the minimum. “She wanted to watch, her family was on the other side, but my father wouldn’t let her.”

“Interesting!” remarks Sanyam as he puts a scoop of ghee in a pan. “So your mother, she was German? And your father is Russian?”

“Was,” says Wolfgang.

“Ah, how difficult it must be to live without one’s parents,” says Sanyam quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Wolfgang hesitates, then murmurs, “Don’t be.”

Sanyam glances up from his work at the stove. He looks at Wolfgang for a moment, then goes back to mincing some garlic.

“I hope, then, that we can prove to be a better...adopted family,” Sanyam says after a pause.

Wolfgang looks up in disbelief. His hands shake and he swallows a strengthening sense of optimism. He’s sure he misunderstood.

“I don’t understand,” he replies.

Sanyam smiles kindly. “I am surprised, of course, but my daughter has been distracted for nearly two years now. I knew there must be something.” He pauses and his smile softens. “You are very lucky to have her. I’m sure she understands whatever it is that you went through.”

Daya smiles. “Kala is very compassionate. I could always tell her anything.”

Wolfgang nods slowly. “She’s the first person I’ve ever been able to talk to.”

“No siblings?” guesses Sanyam.

“I have a friend I grew up with,” says Wolfgang with a small smile. “But Kala is different.”

Sanyam nods, chopping a tomato. Then he says, “you learned Hindi for her?”

Wolfgang nods. “I’ve been studying it for two years.”

“Just for her?” asks Sanyam.

“Just for her,” says Wolfgang.

Sanyam nods, smiling. “I suppose I should trust a man who tries that hard. I’m sure you will take care of my daughter.”

“Oh, with what Kala makes, I think she takes care of him,” jokes Daya.

Sanyam sighs and chuckles. “I meant emotionally, Daya, but I imagine you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chhotii bahan = little sister.
> 
> **Paryaṭaka = outsiders/tourists/come-from-aways


	21. September 19, 2:45 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala confronts her mother and aunt. Wolfgang reveals more than he means to.

Eight miles away, tailing her mother and aunt on the U-Bahn, Kala turns to Nomi with an exasperated sigh. 

“So _what_ ,” she murmurs, agitated. “So I didn’t stay married to a man I didn’t love! So I found one I do! So we’re living together! Why does so much of the world care about these things? It’s so _stupid_ ,” she adds, unusually vicious. “So stupid that they’re angry because I sleep with him. How silly. There’s nothing inherently immoral about sex but oh, Ganesha help us if we have sex outside of a fabricated social construct.”

Nomi watches her friend for a moment, then murmurs, “Want to come to our next sex positivity reading club?” She smiles when Kala meets this response with a glare. “I’m kidding. Why do you think your mom’s responding like this and not your dad?”

Kala breathes out. “Because she thought I was happy. Because she thinks this is temporary, and how foolish of me to give so much of myself to a man who is temporary.”

“What the fuck does give mean?” mumbles Nomi. “You know? It’s not like you’re...losing something. It’s sex. Sex is a conversation.”

Kala swallows, fingertips twitching on her phone case, unable to settle. “And I resent that they fixate on sex. I love what I have with him in that way, it’s...” She trails off, turning a soft peach color. “It’s transformative. But I love _him_. I love him, Wolfgang, and they...they can only see an impulsive slut.”

“Don’t use that word about yourself,” advises Nomi quietly. “Ever.”

Kala softens and she nods, hugging herself against the cold. All she wanted to do was go home and get into the bathtub with Wolfgang.

“Who shows up unannounced?” she mumbles, annoyed.

“Your family, apparently,” says Nomi. She shrugs and puts a hand on Kala’s knee. “They were excited. You moved to Berlin, you got a job, your sister is pregnant. It makes sense. They just weren’t anticipating the whole...Wolfgang of it all.”

Kala smiles halfheartedly. “No.” Then she looks at Nomi. “Was it stupid of me to leave Wolfgang with Daya and dad?”

Nomi shakes her head and smiles. “He can handle it.”

Kala nods and they get off the train. Nomi glances at her phone and points the direction to go and Kala’s heart sinks.

“Oh,” she mumbles.

“What?” prompts Nomi, tugging her hat down on her ears.

“They’re going to the airport,” says Kala defeatedly.

“Oh,” says Nomi, surprised. She hesitates, then puts an arm around Kala’s waist. “I know right now it feels like your responsibility to make them understand. But it isn’t. They should understand, and if they don’t, it’s their responsibility to learn. It isn’t on you.”

“But I... I lied, they spent...thousands of dollars for my wedding, they thought we were going to be together and have children, they....”

“You’ve already apologized for that,” says Nomi quietly. “You don’t have to apologize for Wolfgang. You should never apologize for who you love.”

Kala nods cautiously as they walk along the train platform.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Nomi goes on.

“I should have told the truth,” says Kala.

“That was a mistake,” agrees Nomi. “That doesn’t mean it’s wrong. You didn’t intend to hurt anyone. And now, you’re divorced, you’re building a life. They should be happy for you.”

Kala nods again, stepping onto a new train. Then she says in a small voice, “What do I say?”

“Say what you said to me, be honest,” says Nomi, adding,  “I know how you feel. I’ve never understood why love is so punished by the world.”

“They don’t realize that I love him,” replies Kala.

“They didn’t give you the chance to explain that you do,” says Nomi.

***

Meanwhile at the apartment, Wolfgang is frowning at a bouquet of herbs, struggling to tell the difference between cilantro and parsley. It doesn’t help that Daya is questioning him.

“So, what do you do?” asks Daya. “Wait, let me guess. You’re clearly physically fit--”

Sanyam catches Wolfgang’s eyes to apologize in advance.

“--but you seem quiet...hmm...obviously intelligent if you learned a language so quickly…” She pauses and picks up Wolfgang’s hand, examining it. Sanyam sighs deeply, unsurprised by his younger daughter’s antics. “Mm, what did you do here? That’s an impressive scar. Okay...firefighter?

“No, though that would be useful, Kala likes fire too much.”

Daya grins and drops his hand. “She does. She burned her eyebrows off once as a child because she was experimenting with chemicals she found under the sink.”

“Do you have pictures?” jokes Wolfgang.

“ _Hundreds_ ,” whispers Daya wickedly, going on, “Paramedic? Carpenter? Alright, tell me.”

“I work with kids,” he says. “Kids who need help.”

Daya brightens. “That’s lovely.” Then she frowns as she pours a mixture of spices into the pan and glances again at Wolfgang. “Explain your hands if you have a desk job.”

Wolfgang sets aside the herbs, giving up, and then holds his hands out in front of him -- between the scars, bruises, calluses, and slightly crooked pinky from a childhood break, he can see her point.

He shrugs. “Soccer, boxing.”

“Ooh,” says Daya. “Are you any good?”

“Daya, give the man a rest,” sighs Sanyam, putting a lid on the pot of dal. “Alright, now for the naan…do you have any flour?”

Wolfgang nods, opening a cabinet. Daya smiles gently, watching him.

“This is very quaint,” she remarks. “Kala _must_ love you. You should have seen the last house she lived in! It was a palace.”  She frowns at herself. “Not to say this isn’t nice.”

Wolfgang looks at Daya for a moment, then smiles slightly. “You’re what I thought you’d be.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says, smiling in a satisfied way. Then she pales. “Oh dear. Wait. Has Kala told you many childhood stories?”

Wolfgang meets her eyes. “I know everything.”

“That’s terrifying,” says Daya faintly. “ _You_ are a bit terrifying. You and my sister both.”

Wolfgang grins softly, feeling more at ease despite the feelings he shares with Kala, despair turning to rage as she searches for her mother and aunt in the frigid afternoon.

“You two sit,” says Sanyam, gesturing at the table as he tastes the dal. “Daya, you are more trouble than you are worth with spices. You always sneak in extra coriander.”

“I like coriander,” says Daya, batting eyelashes, sitting at the table. Then she sighs. “I want _mango_. I can’t get enough mango since being pregnant. Do you have any mango? No, of course, you don’t, Kala hates it.”

She pulls the pot of leftover tea towards her and pours some for herself, then for Wolfgang. Sanyam turns around with two bowls of dal, waiting for the naan dough to rise. 

Then a sheet of snow falls off the apartment roof and crashes deafeningly on the street below. Wolfgang automatically reaches for the pistol he’s accustomed to keeping at his side, remembering too late that he stopped carrying months ago. He tries to pass off this motion as a stretch and he clears his throat. Sanyam glances at him, but says nothing and sets the dal down. He returns to dish up a bowl for himself, then sits at the table.

Wolfgang expects Sanyam to demand an explanation. If he saw his daughter’s boyfriend reach for an imaginary gun, he would insist on one. He looks from Daya to Sanyam, confused when no demand comes. Then Sanyam smiles and Wolfgang is sure, somehow, that the other man understands.

Sanyam squeezes Wolfgang’s shoulder and takes a bite of dal.

“Please,” he says after a moment. “Try the dal, it’s very good.”

***

Kala shivers as the train lurches around a curve and comes to a stop. She runs onto the platform, then jogs up the stairs to the entrance hall of the airport. Nomi directs her until she sees her mother and aunt in the security line. She runs along the security fences, then insistently grips her mother’s arm. Priya jumps and stares at Kala, then yanks her arm away.

“You _will_ listen to what I have to say,” whispers Kala, drawing attention from the surrounding passengers. “You left without giving me a chance. If you get on a plane right now, it will never be the same.”

“It already isn’t the same!” shouts Ina, and Priya lays a hand on her shoulder.

“Get out of line,” says Kala.

Ten minutes later, she is sitting with her aunt and her mother at a ubiquitous Starbucks, sipping a chai which tastes like sugar and milk and not much else. Priya’s jaw is tight and Auntie Ina is tapping her high-heeled foot.

“So,” says Ina, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What could you possibly say?”

Kala takes a moment to find her strength. Then she says, gently but honestly, “I’ve known him for two years and I love him. I want to be with him the rest of my life. And he feels the same about me.”

“Two years?” whispers Priya.

“We met in Mumbai when he was on a trip,” she says, repeating the story from earlier. “We have been close ever since. He understands me. Rajan never understood me. He is a good man, but he never understood me, and before you ask, _yes_ he knows. And I have his blessing.”

“Rajan knows?” asks Priya.

Kala nods. “He does. Mom, he always knew. I always knew. We should have been brave when it mattered and decided against our marriage.”

Priya looks at her daughter with dark chocolate eyes. “I...I thought you loved him.”

“I thought I did too,” murmurs Kala. “But I didn’t know what the word meant.”

She and her mother look at each other for a moment, close to resolution. Then Ina interrupts.

“You are not married to this new man,” she says.

“No,” says Kala quietly. “But I love him. What matters more? Would you really prefer I’m married to a man I do not love than living with a man I do love?”

“Yes,” Ina says without hesitation. “Good women do not do this in Mumbai.”

“I am not in Mumbai,” Kala says slowly. “And perhaps I have a different definition of good than you do, Auntie.”

Her aunt waves her off and drinks her tea. But Priya leans forward.

“You love him?” she asks, all breath.

Kala nods. “I love him.”

“He loves you?” checks Priya.

“Very much,” answers Kala.

“Bakavāda*,” says Auntie dismissively. “You cannot live with a man you are not married to, it is improper and it is unacceptable.”

“Ina,” mumbles Priya. “The world is changing.”

“It shouldn’t be,” says Ina.

“Auntie,” says Kala, voice harsh. “I know we will be married because I am going to ask him if he doesn’t ask me first. And what is the point in waiting when we love each other?"

“Oh, you will know what the point is when you find yourself pregnant and see he’s disappeared….”

Kala sits back and murmurs, “He would never leave.”

“So he’s told you,” says her aunt.

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?” says Kala.

“There is nothing you can do. Young men, Kala, they are snakes.”

Kala breathes out slowly, rage settling low in her stomach, but when she speaks, her voice is steady. “You are right, Auntie. Men are responsible for most of the suffering in the world. But he is not like those men. Do you know how unkind the world has been to him? Have you considered that I am the first good thing he has ever had? Have you wondered _why_ I would be so, as you said, impulsive? Me, the girl who could barely speak to her teachers for fear of making a fool of herself, me, the girl who scheduled each day in her diary and checked off the hours, _me_ , the girl who took a job she did not want at Rasal Pharmaceuticals because she wanted to provide for you all in an emergency? I am not impulsive. I chose him after two years of thought.”

Ina looks at her niece as if she is a lit firework. Then she sniffs and gets to her feet. “I need to use the lady’s room.”

But Priya grips her daughter’s hands. “Is this why...that day over coffee...is this why you told me that you and Rajan were still learning about each other?”

Kala nods.

“He hid his...criminal dealings...and you hid….you hid this,” says Priya, sniffling.

Kala nods again. “We both made mistakes.”

“But you love him?” Priya asks again. She tries the name out unsurely. “You love him? This...Wolfgang?”

“I love him,” says Kala.

Priya nods. Then she says, as if she’s experienced the consequences of her next words, “Do _not_ walk away from that.”

“I won’t,” murmurs Kala.

“He’s going to marry you?”

Kala rolls her eyes but smiles. “Yes, Mom.”

Priya smiles. “Does he want children? Because I want grandbabies.”

Kala smiles patiently. “He does. I, however…”

“Oh, you will want them as soon as you have an accident,” says Priya confidently.

Kala laughs in surprise. “ _Mom!_ ”

Priya shrugs, laughing gently to herself. She pats her daughter’s cheek.

“Forgive me,” she says after a moment. “I panicked.”

Kala nods. “I understand.”

“I will talk to your Aunt,” adds Priya.

***

Three hours later, having finally ushered her family to a hotel, Kala goes into the bathroom of the apartment and glances at Wolfgang in the tub.

“Can you believe them?” she whispers, taking her earrings out and setting them in a dish on the counter.

He shrugs and wipes the condensation off his face. “I like them.”

Kala rolls her eyes and smiles. She takes off her shirt which is still damp from the morning snowball fight and shivers despite the heat in the bathroom.

“How come _you_ are in the bathtub before me?” she asks Wolfgang as she peels her jeans off. “Haven’t I had a more challenging day than you?”

He chuckles, sinking deeper in the water. She ties her hair in a neat bun on the top of her head, then unclasps her bra and catches Wolfgang watching.

“Mm, I don’t have energy for you,” she teases as she hangs the bra on a hook nearby. “I am taking a bath. And having a glass of wine. And washing my family’s disapproval off of me.”

He laughs at this.

She smiles, tossing her panties aside and blushing at Wolfgang’s unwavering gaze. Then she sets her glass of wine on the side of the tub and sinks into the water with him. She settles against him and snuggles her face into his neck and he hugs her closer, kissing the side of her head and trailing his touch over her ribcage.

She breathes out, exhausted, and closes her eyes. He holds her closer under the water and presses a few kisses on the back of her neck. She loses herself in the feeling, smiling distantly as her limbs relax. After a moment, she laughs.

“My mother…” she whispers in amusement, “was _so_ angry that she went back to the airport...and then at the airport...she asked me about grandbabies. I have never seen such a turnaround.”

Wolfgang chuckles quietly.

Kala looks up at him, eyes bright with humor. “And Auntie, on the train back...she told me you’re handsome.” She smiles and swipes the pads of her fingers over his lips. “As if I didn’t know.”

She stretches to kiss him, then rests her head on his shoulder again. He thumbs over her arm with one hand and teases her knee with the other.

“But the best part...” she murmurs after another moment, drowsy from the day, drunk on the feeling of Wolfgang’s arms around her in the water, “...was coming back and finding you and Daya and Dad, all eating together like you had known each other for years.”

He smiles slightly. “Told you, I like them.”

“They like you too,” replies Kala.

She glances up and kisses him once more. Then she smiles against his lips, looks briefly into his eyes, and settles lower in the water, losing herself to his touch, the warm water, and the sound of the wind outside.


	22. September 30, 6:37 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomi and Amanita get married, and the wedding sets Wolfgang's thoughts in motion.

Wolfgang stands outside a renovated art gallery in South of Market, San Francisco, huddled under the eaves to keep out of the rain while he smokes. The others are inside, in what Lito calls “the staging area,” to put on dresses and suits and drink sangria. Wolfgang has been avoiding the commotion for the better part of an hour. He’s never been to a wedding, unless he counts his parents’ wedding, which he doesn’t. He was one and there was no ceremony. He eluded any weddings his family was invited to after that, wanting to avoid four hours of disingenuous pleasantries and orthodox vows. 

He’s never been at ease with rituals like weddings. He doesn’t understand the purpose of them. He wishes it was easy to enjoy what’s meant to be enjoyed, but he’s never been good at that, unless he’s alone with Kala.

Already, he’s found himself unable to look away from her. She’s taken the form of a bride in his mind simply because they’re at a wedding, and he’s outside smoking, avoiding her and the others, so they won’t notice how distant his mind is or worse, ask him what he’s thinking. 

“Wolfie, the fuck?” shouts Felix from the door. “We’re all dressed, the wedding starts in like twenty minutes!”

“It doesn’t take twenty minutes to put on a suit,” replies Wolfgang.

“No, but it’ll take more than twenty minutes to sew your head back on after Kala rips it off and puts it on a plate.”

“Stop exaggerating, Felix!” Kala calls from within. 

Wolfgang smiles slightly and draws on his cigarette. “See? Fuck off.”

Felix groans and sidles along the side of the art gallery until he reaches Wolfgang.

“Fine, at least let me smoke with you,” he grumbles, and Wolfgang hands him a cigarette.

“Nice tie,” says Wolfgang, gesturing at the fuschia silk.

“It was this or baby pink.”

Wolfgang squints. “What’s baby pink?”

“Light pink!”

“Why do you know that?” 

Felix makes a face, unfazed. “Guess I’m more fucking cultured than you.”

Wolfgang grins and chuckles, flicking the ash off his cigarette. Just then Sun, wearing a plum-colored bridesmaid dress and a murderous expression, comes out of the art gallery and hurries along the side to join them.

“Kill me,” she says as she reaches them, taking a cigarette box out of her purse. She lights up, then gestures at her stiletto heels. “Kala is the  _ only _ one who has managed to dance in these. I love Nomi, but when will this be over?” She takes a puff of her cigarette, shakes her head, and adds with a growl, “Mun has called me beautiful two times already.  _ Ugh.”  _

“You love him,” says Wolfgang and Sun punches him hard in the arm.

“Fuck,” whispers Wolfgang, wincing and rubbing his arm.

“I  _ like _ him,” grumbles Sun, tapping the ash off her cigarette and looking out into the rain.

Then Dani appears at the door to the gallery, sobbing and fanning her face, stumbling towards the group. Wolfgang shakes his head. All he wanted was a moment of privacy, and now it seems he’s formed a coalition for anyone annoyed, drunk, or otherwise bored.

“I n-needed some air, everyone just looks so b-beautiful!” Dani whimpers, carefully patting her cheeks free of wetness. 

“Seems the unlimited sangria was a good idea,” Wolfgang says in German and Felix grins. 

Dani continues to fan herself, sniffling, then bursts into fresh tears and says, “If I feel like this now, what will I be like when Lito and Hernando get married? Oy, I want them to, they  _ need _ to.” Then she grips Sun’s arm, partly for stability, partly out of affection, and goes on, “Detective Mun is, like,  _ so _ cute by the way. You’re so lucky. ” She sniffles again, then looks at Wolfgang. “And Kala looks freaking gorgeous as usual.” She carefully swipes her thumbs under her eyes to collect the tears and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just...I  _ love _ weddings.”

She shivers and Sun elbows Felix, who takes off his jacket and puts it around Dani’s shoulders. The four of them stand in silence for a few more minutes, watching cars pass as the city darkens around them. They hear the band begin to warm up on the covered rooftop where the ceremony will take place, bits from  _ What’s Going On?  _ interspersed with  _ And I Love Her  _ and  _ Pachelbel’s Canon In D _ . 

Wolfgang glances up at the rooftop where strings of lights are visible, thinking only of Kala. He squeezes Felix’s arm as a goodbye, then hurries along the gallery, back to the door. He slips inside, shaking his leather jacket free of moisture, and goes into a curtained-off area where all the participants of the ceremony are getting ready -- except for Nomi and Amanita, who have been alone upstairs, preparing together. 

All the men are in dark grey suits with ties on a pink-purple spectrum, and the women are in plum-colored dresses with transparent purple shawls. Everyone is milling around, sipping sangria, and talking. Lito and Hernando are in a private corner, faces close, grinning at each other. Will and Mun are chatting with Teagan and Bug. Capheus and Zakia are waltzing together and laughing every time Zakia stumbles in her heels. The music from the rooftop has filtered down to the gallery and the air is warm and fragrant with the smell of paint, paper, and teakwood.

Wolfgang catches sight of Kala, radiant in the floor-length bridesmaid gown, hair done up in a braid, held together by several diamond-studded pins. Her curls are unruly in the humid weather, and few wispy ones frame her face. He stops breathing at the sight of her and watches as she twirls in front of Riley and laughs. Riley grins, reaching for the sheer shawls that go with the dresses, and playfully pins it to Kala’s hair like a veil. Kala covers her face with it, and Riley lifts the fabric to imitate the ceremony, and the two women laugh together. Wolfgang takes a breath and the words that have been fighting for attention since they arrived in San Francisco finally erupt in his mind.

_ I knew you were the only woman I wanted to be with from the moment I saw you... _

Wolfgang swears internally. It’s not the ideal time or place to be rehearsing a proposal in his mind.

Kala sees him and her expression softens, a deep blush touching her cheeks. She squeezes Riley’s hands and walks over to him, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him, gently at first, then insistently. He groans softly, hugging her closer, and she finally grins against his lips and pulls away.

“Hi,” she murmurs, warm in his arms.

He grins and presses another quick kiss to her lips. “Hi.”

“You should put on your suit,” she says, tugging on his leather jacket. “We have ten minutes.”

He nods and lets her go, then looks her up and down.

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly.

She beams. “Thank you.” 

They look at each other for a moment, both lightheaded.

_ I loved you then and I love you more now... _

Kala knows time is running out before the ceremony, but the look in Wolfgang’s eyes keeps her feet stuck in place. She stares at him, hands suddenly trembling. 

“Wolfgang?” she murmurs.

He shakes his head slightly, remembering himself. He smiles faintly at her. 

“Sorry, I…”  _ Can’t stop thinking about you _ . He shrugs. “Just speechless, you’re gorgeous.”

She smiles playfully and leans to kiss the side of his mouth. Then she takes his hand and leads him over to a bathroom, where a single suit is hanging up. 

“Of course you’re the last one to get dressed,” she teases gently.

He takes off his boots, jacket, and shirt and she helps him put on the crisp white button-down and styles a plum tie around his neck. He puts on the tux pants, which are more fitted than his jeans, and Kala smirks.

“You need to wear things like this more often,” she says, cheeks flushing.

He shakes his head, smiling, and puts on the jacket. Kala steps back and looks at him, her hands over her mouth, eyes crinkling. Then she grins, tugs him closer, and brushes her lips on his mouth. He kisses her deeply for a moment and she murmurs her approval, pressing closer, focusing on the shape of his body against hers. 

He runs his hands down her back, touching her nose with his own, and they both breathe in, mesmerized by sensation. 

“We have to go,” she whispers after a moment.

_ I never admitted it to myself, but as soon as I met you, I couldn’t see the future without you... _

He nods reluctantly, squeezing her waist. He takes a pair of shiny wingtip shoes off a seat and sits to put them on, and then they exit the bathroom. They find everyone in a rush to go to the rooftop for the ceremony and they fall in the line of guests flooding up the stairs. 

The Cluster, plus Teagan, her husband, Bug, Zakia, Hernando, and Mun, stop at the second floor and file off into the room where everyone who is part of the ceremony is waiting. Nomi and Amanita wave and grin at them as they come in, both radiantly happy. Amanita hands Bug, who will play the role of flower girl, his basket of orchid petals and he grins and shakes his head tearfully. Nomi, meanwhile, passes around a basket with number slips inside. Every couple draws a slip to see what order to walk down the aisle in.

Kala holds the number 3 up for Wolfgang to see.

“I hope I don’t fall,” she jokes, looking at her heels.

“It’s worth it, you’re finally tall enough to kiss me in those,” he says.

She pouts. “I’m not  _ that _ tiny.”

“Yes you are,” he says with a smirk, putting an arm around her and kissing the side of her head. 

She smiles in concession and turns her head to share a quick kiss. They listen to the rumblings of feet and chairs above them on the rooftop and the music softens.

Riley shoots a grin at Nomi and Amanita. “Do you think my dad’s quartet is going to add something snazzy to  _ Pachelbel _ ?”

Nomi laughs loudly and Amanita says, “God, I  _ hope _ so!”

Everyone chuckles then waits quietly for the signal from upstairs. Kala leans against Wolfgang and he puts an arm around her waist, resting his head on hers, thumbing over her side. 

_ I couldn’t see the future at all before I met you. But now I can and I only see you... _

Kala closes her eyes for a moment, sinking in his warmth. Though she doesn’t know his thoughts, she can feel that tonight, they’re different. 

The music begins on the rooftop and Amanita squeals quietly. Everyone lines up in pairs behind Bug, with Nomi and Amanita last. They each walk up one more story of stairs and emerge on the rooftop. 

The rooftop is covered in a chic black tent and heated by several patio heaters with real flames. The floor is strewn with orchid petals and dozens of rows of chairs, all filled with guests, lead up to an archway constructed of willow branches and live wisteria vines. 

“Oh my God,” murmurs Kala. “It’s  _ beautiful _ .”

The pairs make their way down the aisle arm-in-arm, some grinning fiercely, some smiling with wet eyes, some beaming and openly expressing joy. Even Wolfgang is smiling, and he breaks into a soft grin when Kala nudges him. They reach the arch and step to the side of it, waiting for the others to gather. They glance at Gunnar’s piano and string quartet as  _ Pachelbel _ begins to take on characteristics of  _ What’s Going On?  _ Then they look beyond the tent at the city, reflected distantly in the bay like a scattered prism of stars.

And in a single burst, Wolfgang sees his relationship with Kala replay in his mind, the first unbelieving glances, the sun-drenched rooftop, the rain-drenched cafe, the kiss in the car when she was sure, the kiss under the kitchen counter when he was sure he would die, the longing, the distance, their sudden commitment, then pain like nothing either of them had experienced, and finally, reunion.

He looks at Kala as Nomi and Amanita reach the altar and sees tears fall in big bubbles over her cheeks. She smiles forcefully at him, sniffling, and he squeezes her hand.

Then they turn to watch Nomi and Amanita exchange vows, put rings on each other’s fingers, and kiss enthusiastically.

The front row on the left -- Amanita’s mom and dads --  all jump to their feet, shouting, weeping, applauding deafeningly. Nomi’s father gets to his feet on the other side of the aisle, clapping as well. Nomi and Amanita, both crying, grip hands and are the first to head across the rooftop to go downstairs for the reception. 

Kala wipes her eyes and sniffles, looking around at her Cluster -- most of them are crying, especially Lito, Capheus, and Riley. Even Will chuckles and dabs his eyes with his sleeve. She glances up at Wolfgang, whose eyes are predictably dry, and he smiles at her. She grins, still crying, and collects a tear on her index finger, then places it on his cheek. He tilts his head back and laughs.

“I always cry enough for both of us,” she quips.

“You do,” he agrees with another laugh. 

They look at each other for another moment, the last to step away from the arch and walk with the crowd to the reception downstairs in the art gallery. 

The lights are low in the art gallery, the ceiling strung with thousands of tiny, flower-shaped lanterns, and there is a chocolate fondue fountain in the center of the room with a figurine of two women on the top. There is also an open bar and a large dance floor with swirling silver and white lights.

Kala and Wolfgang wait near the appetizer table for the party to begin. 

She tilts her head as she adjusts his tie. He takes in her image, her eyes bright with emotion, her crimson lips forming a gentle, elusive smile. She puts her arms around his neck once she’s satisfied with his tie and kisses him gently. 

The rest of the Cluster, minus Nomi, gathers around them and they all wait together for the newlyweds to come over. Lito and Dani are still crying and Hernando is still patting their backs and whispering comforting words. Sun has taken off her heels and is holding them in her hands.

Nomi and Amanita eventually appear, holding hands and laughing as they approach. They throw their arms around everyone, kissing cheeks and foreheads and sniffling. Then they step away from the Cluster and gesture with their bouquets. 

“Should we?” asks Nomi. 

“We have to,” says Neets seriously.

Nomi grins and turns around. “This isn’t just for the bridesmaids!”

“Because technically you are all bridesmaids!” adds Amanita and everyone laughs.

“So all of you better try to catch these,” says Nomi, then tosses the bouquet hard. 

It hits Sun on the head and she can’t help but laugh. “Me? Not  _ me _ !”

Mun runs a hand through her hair to smooth it, and she rolls her eyes and leans to kiss him. 

“She’s right,” says Lito with a rascally smile. “We all know Riley and Will are next.”

“Don’t you mean you and Hernando?” says Riley.

“Have you forgotten these impulsive idiots?” puts in Felix, grabbing Kala and Wolfgang’s shoulders.

Kala laughs, but Wolfgang bites his bottom lip, eyes bright and cautious. Kala breathes out, beginning to understand the intensity of his emotions tonight. Then Amanita turns around, shaking the bouquet high over her head, and throws it backward. This time Lito catches it and he laughs heartily, eyes creased in delight. 

“Yes!” he shouts.

“YES!” agrees Dani.

Hernando laughs into his hands, embarrassed, then kisses the side of Lito’s head.

Nomi and Amanita excuse themselves to gear up for their first dance, and Kala and Wolfgang take hands and walk to the side of the art gallery for some privacy. 

“This is such a beautiful night,” murmurs Kala. 

Wolfgang nods in agreement and they glance at Nomi and Amanita, who are talking to Gunnar’s quartet.

“She’s  _ so _ happy,” Kala goes on. “I can feel it, can you? My heart hurts.”

He nods again, squeezing her waist. He’s been quieter than usual tonight and his Cluster-mates caught him staring at Kala with a thoughtful expression throughout the ceremony; Kala, taken over by the beauty of the experience, didn’t notice how often Wolfgang glanced at her, but she shared his feeling of urgency throughout the night.

“I am going to go get some champagne,” she says, patting his chest.

Wolfgang chuckles and nods, pushing her gently as she walks away. Will, noticing Wolfgang is alone, breaks away from Riley and comes over. He leans against a table nearby and glances at Wolfgang.

“What?” Wolfgang says sharply.

“When are you going to ask her?” Will says in response.

Wolfgang looks away and shakes his head impassively. 

“You’re the worst, you know that right?” asks Will, inching closer and kicking Wolfgang’s foot with his own. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” mumbles Wolfgang.

“C’mon, you’ve been looking at her all night. I know that look.”

Wolfgang crosses his arms and simply raises an eyebrow, waiting for Will to go on. Will gestures at him.

“Classic body language,” says Will. “You’re hiding something.”

Wolfgang breathes out, glancing around for Kala, but she’s nowhere in sight. Then he says, reluctant and quiet, “I don’t know how she feels about it.”

“You’ve asked her about it, she wants to,” says Will. 

“She’s only been divorced for a month.”

“But you’ve been together for years.”

“Not as a couple.”

“Wolfgang, c’mon, you two were in love with each other immediately. We all knew it.” Then he smiles. “I’ll help you pick out a ring. And by help you, I mean I’ll make sure you actually  _ buy _ a ring.”

“I’m not going to steal an engagement ring for Kala.”

Will pats his shoulder. “Good. Have the speech in mind yet?”

Wolfgang looks at him, perturbed. “No. The fuck is wrong with you?”

“You do,” says Will, satisfied. 

“No I don’t,” snaps Wolfgang, adding more quietly, “bits and pieces.”

Will grins. “Knew it.”

Meanwhile, Kala is jostling through a crowd of intoxicated revelers to reach the open bar, where she hopes she can find champagne. Riley meets her in the crowd and the women roll their eyes at each other as they push through the sea of guests.

Kala sighs in relief when she reaches the counter, and Riley laughs and rubs her face as she steps up next to Kala.

“I didn’t realize they have so many friends!” says Riley. “This place is a zoo. I love it though, a reimagined art gallery?” She wrinkles her nose and laughs. “Have you seen Hernando? He keeps walking along the walls and examining the art.”

“Poor Lito,” laughs Kala. 

Riley grins. “It’s alright, he’s still crying with Dani.”

They laugh and press closer to each other as they wait for attention from the bartender.

“So who  _ is _ next?” says Riley playfully, nudging Kala’s hip. 

“What do you mean?” asks Kala.

“Who will get married next?” explains Riley, eyes bright with humor.

Kala tries to smile, but a dark flush creeps up in her cheeks and she hastily looks down. Riley’s humorous expression softens and she looks intently at Kala.

“Oh my God,” she murmurs, grinning gently and tapping on Kala’s hand. “You think...you and Wolfgang?”

“It’s too soon,” says Kala, but then she blushes more deeply, covers her face, and laughs at herself.

Riley puts her hands on either side of Kala’s face and kisses her forehead. 

“This is so exciting, why do you think it will be you two?” she asks.

Kala pauses, then takes a quick breath and murmurs, “Because I’m thinking about...asking him. Is that strange?”

Riley shakes her head. Then she smiles warmly. “You should, I think it’s better that way.”

“Why is that?” asks Kala.

“Because he’ll never doubt that you want to marry him,” replies Riley.

Kala nods, then smiles distantly and says, “I’m surprised that I do. I thought being married to Rajan would mean I would never want to be married again, but…” She trails off. “It  _ is _ silly when I think about it. It’s old-fashioned. But it’s romantic, too, though I don’t fully understand why I feel that way.”

Riley shrugs. “It’s a promise. It is romantic.”

Kala smiles and nods. “Do you think he’ll mind?”

“That you propose?” asks Riley with a laugh. “No. I think the conventions he hangs onto are a very small slice of his personality.” She pauses and squeezes Kala’s hands. “And even if he minds, it’s more important that he knows  _ you _ want this. You know how Wolfgang is.”

“Mm, you mean his belief that I’m too good for him?” asks Kala with a fond roll of her eyes.

Riley sighs and shakes her head. “I suppose it’s natural for him to feel that way after everything he’s done.”

Kala nods, then smiles sadly and glances down. “We’ve all done things we didn’t want to do.”

Riley nods too. “I can’t believe some things we’ve done. But we wouldn’t be alive if we hadn’t.” Then she nudges Kala, returning to a happier topic. “So how would you do it? A ring?"

Kala grins. “Yes, a big diamond one.”

Riley giggles.

“Can you imagine?" Kala goes on. "I can barely picture him with a wedding band, he’s quite...minimalist.” 

The bartender finally notices her and Riley and they both order champagne. Then Kala turns back to Riley.

“Not a ring, just the...just the question,” she says breathily. “I’ll ask when we’re somewhere precious to us.”

Riley nods, then grins brightly. “Oh, I’m so excited for you. You make each other so happy.” She pops an eyebrow. “And your difficult aunt will be pleased.”

“Oh my God,” says Kala, putting a soft hand over her eyes. “It’s impossible to tell what pleases my aunt.”

Riley laughs and the champagne arrives. They each take two glasses and go in search of Will and Wolfgang, who are talking quietly near the appetizer table. Riley exclaims happily at the sight of caviar blini on the table and quickly plates some up. She calls Will over with a twitch of her fingers, leaving Kala with Wolfgang. 

Kala hands Wolfgang his champagne and he kisses her in thanks. She smiles and wipes the faint red gloss off his lips.

“You’re quiet,” she murmurs. 

He shrugs and takes a sip of champagne.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

He looks down for a moment, then takes her hand, brings it up to his mouth, and kisses it. Her shoulders sink, overwhelmed by the sweet gesture, and then he sets his champagne aside and pulls her into a tight hug. She breathes in, surprised, holding her champagne over his shoulder, frozen. He kisses the side of her neck and she smiles, nuzzling against him. Riley quietly passes them and takes the glass of champagne out of Kala’s hands so she can hug Wolfgang back. 

They sway slightly on the spot as she grips him closer, and then Wolfgang murmurs, “I love you so much.”

Kala sniffles. “I love you too.”


	23. October 17, 4:55 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang works out and Kala gets worked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is filler, but at least it's smutty filler? 
> 
> TW for some ~mildly kinky activities~ (spanking, some bossiness)...on a kink scale of 1 to 10 this is a 1, but I didn't want anyone to be unpleasantly surprised, hence the TW.

Kala and Wolfgang stumble through their front door, weighed down by bags of groceries, and walk slowly to their kitchen where Kala leans tiredly against the table and smiles at her boyfriend, who is scruffier than usual. 

“Hi you,” she mumbles, reaching a hand out to him so he comes closer.

He smiles, takes her waist, and kisses her. Then she falls into his arms and he hugs her. Lately, they’ve talked less and sought comfort in soft touches.

It’s been two weeks since returning from San Francisco, and in that time, Wolfgang has secretly visited jewelry shops and Kala has secretly written vows on the back of shipment forms in her office, but neither of them has asked each other. The energy has been expressed instead through late night hugs, slow sex, sharing breakfast in bed, running to the train and collapsing against each other as the doors close behind them. 

They both know, without knowing.

Kala tilts her face up and kisses him quickly once more.  

“What are your plans tonight?” she asks.

He shrugs. “Work out, do laundry...you?”

“Take a bath and make...chicken saagwala because I’ve been craving it.” She grins suddenly. “I like this.”

“What?” he asks.

“Knowing what our night looks like. Never worrying we might be interrupted by an emergency.” She shakes her head gently. “How did we live like that?”

He makes a thoughtful sound in his throat and shakes his head too. “I was used to it.”

“I wasn’t!” she says with a laugh. “My life was  _ so _ peaceful before.” Then she smiles and finds his eyes. “I suppose it was worth it.”

“Yeah?” he asks playfully, tugging on her shirt. 

“Yes,” she says. 

She kisses him a last time, then begins to put the groceries away, but he touches her hand and shakes his head.

“Take your bath, I can do this,” he says.

Her lips twitch in approval. “Are you sure?”

He nods. She smiles and kisses him in thanks, then goes into the bathroom to run the tub. She shivers as she undresses, as her bare feet hit the tile. She’s sure she wouldn’t survive the winter here without hot water to submerge herself in several times a week.

“Do you have to refrigerate grapes?” Wolfgang calls from the kitchen.

She rolls her eyes fondly and smiles. “Yes!”

“Thank you, babe,” he replies.

She rolls her eyes again, blushing at how easily he makes her smile, then steps into the tub and sinks deep into the water so only her face is visible. She breathes in deeply, then goes about her routine. After twenty minutes, she adds more hot water to the tub, intent on soaking in it until she’s dizzy.

Wolfgang pauses in the door to the bathroom on his way to their room. “Can I get you anything?”

“Aw,” murmurs Kala, and then she glances up and says, “A glass of wine? And my pajamas?”

He nods, returning a moment later with a glass of white wine and…

“Wolfgang,” says Kala, trying to sound stern, immediately giggling. “Those aren’t pajamas.”

He gestures with lacy, midnight-blue lingerie -- clearly new, something he picked for her --  and innocently says, “They aren’t?”

“God,” sighs Kala, covering her face. “Just…” She gestures, giggling again. “Just hang them there.”

He grins with wicked satisfaction and hangs the lingerie on the back of the door. He disappears and she splashes her face with chilly water from the tap, determined to make him wait until after dinner. She can play his game too. Maybe she’ll even cook in the lingerie and let him watch. Surely her patience will outlast his.

She stretches her legs in the water, then takes a big breath so she floats. She grins to herself --  _ he’s so shameless! --  _ and then sits up to drink her wine. Ten minutes later, she gets out of the tub, dries off and slowly applies a coat of lotion, then shakes her head at the lingerie. She picks it up and examines it. He could hardly have picked a more revealing set, and she knows he knows that.

“Oh, honestly,” she says when she turns the panties around and sees the back consists only of a thin string of lace. 

She puts it on, then the bra, then a silk robe, which she ties tightly. 

She goes past their bedroom towards the kitchen, walking slowly, sipping wine. Then she stops, noticing movement beyond the door, and peeks into the bedroom to see Wolfgang, shirtless, curling a large barbell. She stops. She remembers he mentioned he was going to work out, but the thought left her mind. She leans against the doorframe, fingers tight on the stem of her wine glass, mouth slightly open. She blinks with big, dark eyes, then quickly breathes in, pulling herself back from the precipice.  

She takes another step towards the kitchen, but again, stops. She goes back to the door, watching his muscles jump with effort, watching a bead of sweat travel from the notch of his collarbone, between his pecs, past his belly button. Her heartbeat intensifies and she fights an urge to slip her hand between her legs. 

Then she forces her feet to move, determined not to give in, and goes into the kitchen. She begins to put together chicken saagwala, biting her lip every time she hears him drop a weight on the bedroom floor. She fans herself while she waits for the vegetables to cook, glancing occasionally over her shoulder, wishing he would finish working out and come into the kitchen, hoping she gets a chance to tease  _ him _ for a change.

But by the time she’s set the pan of saagwala off to the side, she still can hear the tempting clink of barbells. She pours herself a bit more wine, turning to lean on the counter, watching the shadows move outside of the bedroom. She hesitates, almost embarrassed how wet she is simply from thinking about him. Then she takes a quick breath, sips her wine, and walks to the door of the bedroom once more.

She stares unabashedly as he unloads a barbell and drops to a plank. She sips her wine while he does push-ups, picturing him above her, inside of her. She breathes in, sweat starting at her hairline, toes tingling. She indulges in the feeling. It’s so rare that she’s alone with her desires; he usually gives her what she wants before she can grow impatient. 

She trails her fingers down her neckline as she watches him get to his feet and reach for a new dumbbell. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, then over his face, breathing hard. He’s just curled the dumbbell when he notices her shadow in the doorway and looks at her.

She freezes, wine halfway to her mouth. He freezes too, then smirks to himself and sets the dumbbell aside. He holds her gaze, staying still, asking her to give in. She walks slowly up to him, putting her wine on the dresser, swaying her hips as she approaches.

“I forgot you like watching,” he mumbles, pulling her into his arms.

“I don’t,” she replies, gulping as a bead of sweat runs down his forehead.

“Yes you do,” he says. “I remember you watching me play.”

Kala remembers too -- clinging to the fence, drinking him in, drenched in her office chair back in Mumbai. She blushes, admitting defeat, and nods. 

“Okay, I do,” she murmurs. 

“What would you have done that day?” he asks, tucking a loose curl behind her shoulder.

“I would have given you whatever you wanted,” she says immediately, voice soft. 

They look at each other for a moment, both balancing on the edge. Then Kala trails her fingertips over his chest.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispers, stepping closer. 

He hesitates. She lets her fingers continue downward, under his shorts, and she takes his cock in her hand. It twitches in interest and he catches a broken breath in his throat.

“Tell me,” she repeats, voice scratchy.

She tilts her head when he remains silent and twists her wrist gently. He breathes out hard, overwhelmed. 

“I know you want something,” she says.

He nods, a smirk starting in the corner of his mouth, and she looks into his eyes for a moment. Then she unties her robe, revealing the dark blue lingerie, and tosses the robe onto the bed. He hooks a finger under the band of her panties and pulls her slightly closer. He brushes a kiss on her lips, barely touching her, lingering so she can feel his breath. Then he runs his hands down her sides and over her ass. 

“You know what I want,” he says.

She raises her eyebrows slightly, then kneels in front of him and looks up. She pulls his shorts down and inches closer on her knees, then takes his cock into her mouth and moans quietly around it. She isn’t sure if the connection allows her to feel his pleasure, or if pleasing him turns her on too, but every time she does this she finds it intoxicating; he feels heavy in her mouth and she loves memorizing the details of his cock with her tongue. 

He tangles his fingers in her hair, tugging on it, and she pulls away to glance at him, tonguing over the head of his cock with a small smile. He lets all his breath out at once, watching her; she sinks over him again, more deeply; his head falls back and he groans. 

She floods with heat and sweat at the sound. She loves making his control slightly slip, making his voice rough. She increases her pace slightly, then slips her hand under her panties, brushes her fingertips over her clit, and moans around him. He reaches down to put his other hand through her hair.

“Love when you do that,” he mumbles, voice scratchy. 

She moans again, more quietly, overwhelmed as she slides her fingers over herself and finds a rhythm. She’s never made herself come while doing this and now she’s curious.

“Fuck, babe,” he mumbles, pulling her hair hard, causing her to breathe in sharply in surprise. “Fuck...”

She forces herself slightly farther so her nose skims the hair around his cock. She takes him in over and over and her mouth grows messier as the minutes pass. He groans very quietly, fingers clenching her hair. Her heart seems to flood, her hair stands on end, and her legs tighten; she’s as close as he is and the idea of coming while he comes in her mouth makes her quietly whimper. 

He recognizes the sound but it surprises him -- it’s the sound she makes when she’s shaken and exhausted at the very end of sex, the sound he thinks about when he’s alone, wanting her. His hips twitch involuntarily at it and she adjusts around him, moaning more softly, taking his length in deeper while she glides her fingers over her clit. 

She shudders and comes, feeling herself throb around her fingers, and he comes too, groaning, fingers suddenly loose in her hair. The world vanishes around her...the floor falls away, the light fades, the noise of sirens and birds outside dissipates so she is left alone with him and nothing else.

She sits back after a moment, dazed, then blushes and laughs softly at herself as she wipes her mouth and chin. She gets unsteadily to her feet and presses close to Wolfgang, who’s gripping the door frame for support, eyes closed. She brushes her fingertips over his lips and gently touches her nose to his.

“Good?” she whispers.

He breathes out and nods. He pulls his shorts up, then finally looks at her. He wordlessly kisses her and slides his hand in between her legs and she jumps, overstimulated. He pulls back to glance at her. 

She blushes the color of dark wine and murmurs, “I’m okay.”

Wolfgang slowly raises his eyebrows. “You were touching yourself?”

She nods. 

“You made yourself come?” he asks.

She breathes out, heart nearly pounding out of her chest, and nods again. 

He looks at her, stunned and hungry, then says, “Show me.”

The words seem to echo for a full minute. She murmurs, “You want to watch me?”

He nods, starting to smirk. She takes an unsure breath.

“I know you can come more than once,” he says, looking into her eyes.

She swallows, shaking from sensation, from the intensity of his gaze. She nods, then smiles slightly, pleased that he wants to look at her, pleased he likes how she looks. 

“Okay…” she murmurs, stepping backward to the bed. She gestures at herself. “Do you want me to take my..?”

He closes the distance between them and reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.

“Take your bra off?” he asks.

She nods. 

He tosses her bra aside and squeezes her breasts. She breathes in at the touch, eyes darkening.

“Don’t be shy,” he mumbles. “Ask again.”

“You’re pushy today,” she murmurs, trying not to give into the sensation of his thumbs on her nipples, too soft, too slow.

He raises his eyebrows slightly.

She takes a breath and asks what he's expecting. “Do you want me to take my panties off too?”

He nods, then pushes her so she falls onto the bed. He steps back to watch her and she inches forward, sitting on the edge of the bed as she slips her panties off. She lets the panties drop to the floor, then opens her legs wide. She plays with her breasts first, watching him watch her. Then she slides her hands over her body, down and then up her thighs, and finally slips two fingers in between her folds. 

She murmurs softly at the feeling, eyelids growing heavy, mouth slightly open. Wolfgang’s cock jumps and he stares at her, shocked that he’s never asked her to do this for him before.

“Do you like this?” she asks after a moment, barely able to get the words out. She breathes, moving her hands again to her breasts, and glances at him. “It looks like you do…”

He slowly walks towards her and she looks resolutely into his eyes, still touching herself as he reaches her. He leans and kisses her, a messy, hungry kiss, then pulls her against him, lifts her, and follows her body down onto the bed. She moans, only now realizing how desperate she was for his touch, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, smiling open-mouthed as he kisses her neck.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles.

She laughs quietly, blushing again, tilting her face up to kiss him. He kisses her back softly, squeezing her hands, then nuzzling into her neck. 

He shifts after a moment so her back is curled against his front. He slides a hand up the front of her body, then over her ass, then buries two fingers inside of her. She leans her head back against him, closing her eyes, moaning quietly. Then she reaches between them, stroking the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“I want you inside of me,” she breathes. 

He kisses the back of her neck and slides his fingers up to tease her clit. Then he pulls his hand back and spanks her, and she breathes in, surprised. He nestles his face against the back of her neck, then spanks her again, more gently, and grips her ass afterward.

“Do you like it?” he asks. 

She glances back at him, chest rising and falling. “I think so.”

He spanks her once more and her body jumps towards the touch. Her breath accelerates.

“That stings,” she murmurs.

He nods, sliding his hand over her ribs to squeeze each of her breasts before trailing his fingers in between her legs again. She turns over, her mouth finding his, and they kiss deeply for a moment while he touches her. Then he moves his hand again to her ass.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he mumbles against her lips, stroking her skin.

She laughs quietly. “No.”

He smiles and pulls her closer to him. “Okay, suße, c’mere, I’ll fuck you like you want…”

She murmurs in approval. He tugs his shorts down, teasing her entrance with the head of his cock while he gives her shoulder, neck, and earlobe soft bites. She groans loudly when he presses into her, breath catching with every thrust.

“Oh...yes,  _ yes… _ ” 

He slides his hand in between her legs to stroke her clit while he fucks her and she quickly dissolves into a mess of moans, his name on her lips, over and over, less clear each time. He groans after a few minutes, unable to focus on anything but her slippery heat around him, gripping her breasts together and driving into her harder than he has in a long time. 

She holds her breath, whining and softly crying out, fingernails leaving indents in his skin. She comes for the second time and slips under the waves, delirious and exhausted, and he comes a moment later, drenched with sweat. They hold still for a moment, breathing hard and shaking, and then Kala turns and kisses him, a long, needy, weak kiss.

She eventually grins softly and meets his eyes. “I never expected to want you so often…”

“Fuck, babe,” he mumbles. “That was so good.”

She smiles and settles closer against him, tucking her leg in between his and nuzzling her face into his chest. She closes her eyes, listening to their pulses pound together.

“I like the lingerie,” she murmurs after a minute.

He chuckles. “Knew you would.”

She smiles indulgently, lifting her face up and kissing him. 

Then she laughs. “I think we should shower…”

He smirks. “Sorry about the sweat. And anything else I got on you.”

“Ew, Wolfgang...” whispers Kala, wrinkling her nose. 

He grins and presses a quick kiss to her mouth, then gets up, pulling her with him towards the bathroom. 

“If we fuck in the shower, we’ll break our record.”

Kala groans. “Wolfgang..."

He looks at her over his shoulder. “What?”

“If you can…” She clears her throat and gestures at hip level, simulating an erection. “If you can  _ get there _ again, I will begin to wonder if you are superhuman."

“Didn't you know that about me?” he asks seriously as they reach the bathroom. 

Kala covers her face, bright red, then pushes him into the shower. 

“No more talking,” she commands as the water rains over them.

He nods. “Okay, babe.” 

Then he smiles softly, kissing her, and she smirks against his lips and wraps her arms around him.

“Maybe...one more time,” she murmurs when they pull apart, and he grins, shutting the shower door with a neat click.


	24. November 2, 4:48 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang have the same idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written mostly from Wolfgang's POV because I haven't done that in a while.

Wolfgang leans down to examine a set of diamond rings kept under a glass counter. He’s mindful of Kala’s presence, making sure she doesn’t see what he sees.

He chose today to pick the ring because she has a performance review at work and he’s sure she’ll be distracted, but if that fails, Will promised to pester her and keep her mind far from the jewelry store.

Wolfgang breathes out heavily. He knows diamonds, and he’s sure he can’t afford these. He’s beginning to doubt if he can afford anything as nice as she deserves.

Before he was born, his parents had money, but Anton was caught in his attempt to steal a rival’s recent drug payout. The money to bribe the police was more than he could afford, but he refused Sergei’s charity and moved his pregnant wife into a deteriorating neighborhood in East Berlin. Wolfgang doesn’t know what his life would have looked like if Anton chose prison, if he gave the money to his mother, if he grew up away from him, but he’s sure it would have been better. Reflecting on this isn’t painful, however, because he knows his father never considered sacrificing himself.

He never took Sergei’s money, either, though he likes to think it was out of contempt rather than pride. He earned what he could as a locksmith and never needed to buy anything particularly expensive. Rent ate up most of what he had each month, as it still does, and his savings consist mostly of what his mother left him when she died which included an envelope of cash, her wedding ring, and her cross necklace. She insisted the money never be put into an account or his father would find it, so he gave the envelope to Felix to keep safe, and only took it back after his father, Sergei, and Steiner were dead and unable to steal it from him.

This precaution was out of sentiment more than anything else -- it was two thousand dollars, and melting down her ring and selling the gold only produced another thousand. Losing the money itself would have been survivable, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if his mother’s money ended up with any of them.

He glances around for a price on the rings, but one isn’t listed, and an attendant walks by and simply says, “Those are twenty-two.”

He glances at her. “Twenty-two thousand?”

She nods. “You may want to consider something other than diamond. Though we do have some simpler designs for six.”

_Who spends twenty-two thousand for a ring?_ He breathes out sharply. _Rajan probably._

He nods. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to see them?”

He shakes his head and she walks away. He straightens and glances around the shop, suddenly concerned that between a ring, a wedding and a honeymoon, he won’t have anything left and will be entirely reliant on Kala. He would like to provide for her, though he would never say that to her, because she would be right in replying that she doesn’t need anyone to provide for her. A tiny but persistent voice in his mind insists he’s not a man if he doesn’t take care of her and he tries to ignore it, to disregard it like the other ghosts that taunt his strength.

He wonders if he should have kept his share of the diamond money, though after what happened to Felix and the consequences that came with killing Sergei, he knows he would feel sick spending any of that money, let alone buying Kala’s engagement ring with it. Though Felix insists it isn’t true, Wolfgang considers the night they stole the diamonds to be the beginning of everything that went wrong in the following two years.

He walks along the glass case and glances around at the other shoppers -- mostly couples and single men, all dressed expensively. He thinks back to what Daya said a few weeks ago. _You should have seen the last house she lived in! It was a palace!_

Sure, a palace financed by an illicit drug network.

He itches for a cigarette and a walk by the river, but he forces himself to stay in the shop. He continues around the cabinet and looks at the overwhelming display -- gold, silver, rose gold, sapphires, rubies. He rubs a hand over his mouth in thought. He feels Will reach into the connection, asking if he needs guidance, but he pushes the other man out, wanting to be alone in the process of selecting Kala’s ring.

He knows Kala loves rubies, and she’s mentioned their importance to her as a religious symbol as well. Her aunt gave her a _navaratna_ on her eighteenth birthday, a bracelet with nine gems to represent celestial deities, with a ruby in the center to represent the sun. She doesn’t wear it often, fearing she’ll lose it.

He puts his hands in his pockets, thumbing over the well-worn paper of the envelope with the money. Three thousand dollars. He wishes he could see through Kala’s eyes and pick a ring she loves, but he’s determined for the proposal to be a surprise.

He walks around the shop again, feeling unsure eyes on his back from the other shoppers. He takes a slow breath, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before releasing it. He loops back to the diamonds, then notices a [gold ring](https://img.etsystatic.com/il/edf8d3/1125689970/il_570xN.1125689970_77ar.jpg?version=0) with a ruby in the shape of a soft square; the band is embedded with tiny diamonds, and the gold around the ruby is scalloped and studded with diamonds as well.

He wrinkles his brow in interest, then glances at the attendant from earlier, who has come back to check on him.

“This one is more affordable because the diamonds are cut,” she says. “It’s twenty-eight hundred.”

Ten minutes later, he texts Felix: _I have $200 to my name. Meet at the place on Solmsstraße?_

Felix writes back: _Fuck, what happened?_

Wolfgang smiles softly to himself as he walks out of the jewelry store, a small velvet box in his pocket. _I’m asking Kala to marry me._

***

Felix, wrapped in an orange camouflage jacket and a purple scarf, one of the worst combinations Wolfgang has seen, is in a state of agitation by the time Wolfgang walks up to him in the Kreuzberg.

“Wolfie, think about this,” says Felix as he approaches. “I know you’ve known each other for years, but you’ve only been together for a couple of months! This is fucking insane!”

Wolfgang smiles slightly. “Hi, Felix.”

“I got your text and shit my pants, man,” says Felix, fishing in his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter.

He lights up, shaking his head. When he speaks again, his voice is more concerned than exasperated.

“I know you want to marry her,” he says, “and I know you’re going to marry her, but how long’s she been divorced? A month?”

They turn onto a new street, their favorite bar in sight, and hasten their pace as they battle a rain flurry.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Wolfgang admits quietly.

“Why?” asks Felix, bewildered. “You know she isn’t going anywhere!”

“I…” Wolfgang trails off and the corners of his mouth twitch. “I know. But I want her to be my wife.”

Felix shakes his head and they tuck under the eaves of the bar. He takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Never had a relationship, hated the whole idea, and now you’re going fucking matrimonial on me…”

Wolfgang lights a cigarette. “Never loved anyone before.”

“Wow, sweet of you to say to the one idiot who’s stood by you for almost twenty years--”

“Never loved a woman before, fuck off,” replies Wolfgang, brushing his thumb on the filter of his cigarette so the ash falls.

Felix grins good-naturedly, adding after a moment, “Why does it matter to you, though? You love her, she loves you. Why are you getting married?”

Wolfgang shrugs and Felix stares at him.

“You don’t know?” Felix whispers. “You bought a fucking ring, man! I know you know.”

“Because I’ve always felt that close to her,” Wolfgang replies after a pause. “I’ve always felt like she’s my wife.” He looks down and breathes smoke out of his nose. It turns into fog in the frozen air. “I waited for her for two years, and she’s always been more than a girlfriend to me, and I want her to...know that.”

Felix frowns slightly in thought. “I think she does.”

He shrugs again. “I know how I feel.”

“Fuck, Wolfie, that girl loves you,” says Felix with a quiet groan.

“Just want her to say yes,” replies Wolfgang.

Felix opens his arms wide and looks at his brother in disbelief. “Of fucking course she’s going to say yes!” He shakes his head hard, puts out his cigarette, then takes Wolfgang’s cigarette out of his mouth and does the same. “Fuck, we need drinks. Just want her to say yes...the fuck is wrong with you?”

Wolfgang gives a short laugh. He follows Felix to a poorly-lit table in the back and they sit across from each other. A waitress stops by and asks them if they want to open a tab.

“I’m buying, Dummkopf here just spent all his money,” replies Felix. “Two Kölschs. And a bottle of champagne.”

The waitress glances around. “Does this place look like we have champagne?”

“Fuck it, vodka,” says Felix and she nods and walks away.

“I can’t get drunk tonight, Felix--”

Felix looks at his brother in alarm. “You’re asking her tonight?”

Wolfgang shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “No, but I wanted to make her dinner, she’s stressed about work.”

“When are you asking her?” queries Felix.

“When I know what to say,” says Wolfgang.

The beers and vodka arrive and Felix quickly downs the clear liquor, then takes a few gulps of his beer. Wolfgang takes a sip of beer, glancing across the bar and outside at the rainy, windswept evening.

“She’ll say yes,” says Felix.

“It scares her,” mumbles Wolfgang.

“You know what’s fucking scary, marrying someone you don’t love. That scares her. Doesn’t apply here.”

Wolfgang shrugs and picks up his beer. “I don’t know if she agrees with it.”

“With getting married?” asks Felix.

“What good has it ever done?” he replies

“It usually hasn’t,” says Nomi, sliding into the booth next to Felix.

Wolfgang looks at her, just long enough for Felix to catch on. Felix shakes his head and drinks more beer.

“Who is it?” he asks.

“Nomi,” murmurs Wolfgang.

“We both know marriage has historically been a means of controlling women,” she says. “And we know Kala has personal experience with that. But that doesn’t mean your marriage will be like that. Look, marriage as an institution? Totally toxic. But if Neets and I can get past the history, you two certainly can.” She smiles. “It’s 2017. Marriage just means love. Ask her before she asks you.”

Wolfgang laughs at the impossibility of Kala asking him. He nods gratefully at Nomi and she grins.

“I’m gonna go now, I’m on my honeymoon, and this academic shit is kinda killing the vibe,” says Nomi serenely, vanishing.

Wolfgang looks back at Felix, smiling faintly, and drinks his beer. Then he mumbles, “What do I say?”

Felix grins and laughs. “Say you love her.”

“I say that every day, I need something else.”

“No you don’t,” says Felix with a shrug. “Say what you said to me. You’ve never loved any woman the way you love her.” He pauses. “You’ve never loved anyone the way you love her. Look, Wolfie, I know I’m your brother, I know the shit we’ve gone through. But she’s fucking made for you.”

“Thanks,” mumbles Wolfgang, but he drops his gaze and brushes his fingers thoughtfully on the edge of his glass.

“What?” asks Felix.

Wolfgang shrugs. “She knows everything about me. Knows everything I’ve done.”

“So?” asks Felix.

“Wouldn’t you hesitate?” Wolfgang asks quietly.

“She moved in with you, defended you to her parents, gave up a whole life for you,” says Felix seriously. “Doesn’t sound fucking hesitant to me.”

“Getting married is different,” says Wolfgang, finishing his beer.

“All you can do is ask,” says Felix after a moment. “And if that girl says no, I’ll eat my shoe. All my shoes. And I have a lot of fucking shoes.”

Wolfgang gives a small smile and nods. Then he murmurs, “Fear never fixed anything.”

“Fucking right,” says Felix fervently. He finishes his beer, then gives a toothy smirk. “Show me the ring.”

Wolfgang hesitates, then breaks into a grin and takes the box out of his pocket. He pops it open and Felix’s eyes steadily widen until his brows reach his hairline.

“Shit, Wolfie! She’s going to faint! How much was that?”

“Not as much as I thought it would be,” replies Wolfgang, adding, “almost all I have.”

Felix shakes his head, then excitedly whispers, “Congratulations."

Wolfgang laughs. “Thank you.”

 

***

  
Wolfgang gets home an hour later and finds the apartment empty, which he expected with Kala working late again. He hides the ring in his gun case, then makes one of the only recipes he knows well -- chicken and noodles -- and lies on the couch, too anxious to eat.

His nerves quickly turn into exhaustion and he falls asleep, an unread book draped over his chest. He wakes up to Kala climbing on top of him and nuzzling her face into his neck, and he chuckles and runs his hands down her back.

“How was it?” he mumbles, blinking.

“Fine,” she murmurs and he pulls her closer, thumbing over the fabric of her skirt. She smiles. “It smells good, did you cook?”

He nods. She looks down at him, tired eyes and plum lips, dark hair falling around his face. He stretches his neck and kisses her gently.

She grins against his lips, then pulls away and shakes her head so her nose brushes his. She presses a kiss to the side of his mouth, then forces herself to her feet and pulls him with her. She plates some chicken and noodles for each of them, then slides the teapot over the burner to boil.

She grinds some coffee and pours it neatly into the coffee press. He frowns slightly at her.

“I want to go for a walk,” she explains. “It stopped raining.”

Falling asleep with her on the couch sounds more appealing than a walk.

“Please?” she adds when she sees his expression.

“Okay,” he says quietly, accepting a plate of food.

They eat, leaning against counters, waiting for the teapot to whistle. When it does, Kala pours the water over the coffee grounds, then leans forward to kiss Wolfgang softly.

“How was your day?” she murmurs.

He shrugs. “The usual.”

She nods and they continue to eat. She envisions the stacks of scrap paper on her desk, the scribbled proposals, eyes lingering on the words. She doesn’t want to sound scripted, but she worries that without a script, she’ll simply cry and he won’t take her seriously.

After another moment, she sets her empty plate aside and squeezes his arm. She goes into their room to change into jeans and a sweater. He joins her eventually, pulling on his leather jacket. They sit on their bed together to put on their shoes and he notices she’s trembling.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Cold,” she says, though she's trembling from nerves, not the weather.

He nods and snags her jacket off the chair nearby. She smiles in thanks and puts it on, then pulls him to his feet and walks out of their room with him. He frowns gently in thought, but doesn’t question her urge to take a walk. As they step outside, she gasps.

“I forgot my phone,” she says, darting back inside.

She knows her phone is safely in her pocket, but she retrieves a small box from her desk and pockets it. She returns to him in the icy doorway and takes his hand. She guides him towards a tree-lined street, walking more quickly than she ordinarily does.

“Suße?” he mumbles.

She turns her head and smiles in question.

“Okay?” he checks.

She smiles, lips quivering, and nods. She slows her pace, then slides her hand down his arm and tangles their fingers together.

“I’m sorry, I must be anxious from work,” she explains quietly.

He nods and they continue down their street, lined with apartments and gold-red trees. Their feet crunch the leaves and Kala presses close as they walk. Wolfgang puts an arm around her waist and she rests her head on his shoulder, their feet slow and heavy on the frosty cobble. The streetlights come on as the last sliver of sun drops over the horizon. The wind picks up and the rain returns, though more softly than earlier.

They don’t speak, but this is typical for a nighttime walk. They communicate through touch instead.

The last starlings descend into their roosts for the night and the bars begin to play music. The city settles into the rhythm of a Friday evening, and Kala takes a sharp, shallow breath as they approach the warmly-lit cafe; the cafe with the rainy patio, the cafe with the strong coffee.

Wolfgang recognizes it and his brow twitches in thought, but he doesn’t speak. Kala swallows and pulls him inside, and he realizes that the cafe is empty despite it being Friday night, and it is filled with hundreds of candles.

He glances at Kala, but she doesn’t meet his gaze, and she smiles at a server who guides them through the path of candles and out to the drenched patio. There is a bottle of champagne on the table to the left of the door, the one they sat at before.

Kala sits down, urging Wolfgang to do the same. The server disappears and the door to the patio clicks shut.

“Kala?” says Wolfgang unsurely.

She breathes in and reaches across the table to squeeze both of his hands.

“This is….” he trails off.

“Our cafe,” she says gently, smiling, flushed.

He nods, watching her. She runs a hand through her glossy hair, eyes fixed on the candle in the center of the table. Then she sets her jaw and looks at him with shimmering eyes. The rain renews above them, sputtering through the gutters and falling with sharp pit-pats on the metal table.

The candle burns out and Kala smiles gently.

“Wolfgang,” she murmurs after a pause.

He looks at her intently, and then she slides out of her seat and kneels in front of him. His eyes widen, heart hammering in his chest. He watches as rain collects in her curls, as her lips form a shy smile.

“Wolfgang,” she repeats, more softly. “I love you. And I knew you were the man I wanted to spend my life with from the moment I first saw you, and for a woman who has spent her _entire_ life analyzing her own feelings...to know something so clearly, so instantly...it terrified me and I am sure I will carry the regret with me the rest of my life that I let my fear win. I am sure I will never forgive myself for choosing what I knew over what I wanted. And I am ashamed it took me until so recently to realize that you are all I've ever wanted. I spent all of my life trusting what Ganesha set before me, but when it was you, my faith waivered. I couldn’t imagine loving a man like you. But at the same time, I knew that I did love you, that I do love you.” She pauses. “When I looked at you in your uncle’s house that day I...I wasn’t looking at you out of disgust, or shock, or even pity. I was looking at you that way because I finally understood. And though I know it was the opposite of what you intended, I realized that if I could understand you in that moment, then I could understand you, and love you, in any moment. And I realized you could do the same for me.” She breaks off, voice trembling. “I’ve only ever loved you, and I can’t imagine loving anyone else, and I only want you, the rest of my life.” She pulls a box with two gold wedding bands out of her pocket. “Wolfgang Bogdanow, will you marry me?”

He stares into her hopeful eyes, free falling, in shock. Then he looks down at the rings, his own proposal echoing in his mind. He silently reaches for her hand and squeezes it. He nods, jaw tight, eyes blazing.

She lets out a soft sob and wipes her eyes. Then she nods hard and gets to her feet, pulling him up with her. He shakes his head, astonished, and lets out a breath. Then he laughs and she looks at him with a worried frown.

“I…” He trails off, unable to explain. Then he laughs again. “Baby, I have a ring for you at home.”

She stares at him and whispers, almost inaudible, “What?”

“I bought an engagement ring for you today,” he says.

She looks at him for another moment, stunned and motionless.

“You were going to ask me?” she asks quietly.

He nods.

“Oh my God,” she murmurs, irises darkening as she looks at him. “Oh, Wolfgang.”

She sniffles, then glances down at the two wedding bands in her hand. She wipes her eyes quickly, then takes the bigger of the two bands and slides it over his left fourth finger. His heart threatens to burst, but he has the presence of mind to pick up the smaller band and slide it over her finger.

She laughs and lets out a breath, then grins and kisses him. She pulls away quickly and looks at their hands together, at the two gold rings.

“We shouldn’t wear them yet,” she murmurs.

“No,” he agrees.

But they look at the rings for another moment. Then she puts her arms around him and he hugs her tightly.

She sniffles into his chest and he slowly cards his hand through her hair, suspended in the moment. It was only last year that he was alone at a bar, numbing himself to escape the sensation of Kala diving into the sea in Positano.

He hugs her closer, tucking his face into her hair, and closes his eyes. For a moment, he feels she is the only thing that exists, that nothing has existed before this night, that the world is somehow new. He breathes out, unsteady, and shakes his head slightly.

She breathes in, trembling, and pulls back to meet his gaze. She looks down at their hands once more and reluctantly takes the ring off of his finger. He does the same to her, and she carefully sets the rings in the case she brought with her and clicks it shut.

“Soon,” she murmurs, adding with a playful grin, “I’ll wear the ring you bought me.”

He nods, then pulls her close and kisses her fiercely. She smiles against his lips, swaying with him as the rain intensifies. They break apart with a stunned laugh.

“Let’s go home, I want you to propose to me,” she says, flashing her eyes into his and beaming.

He nods, still numb with shock, and reaches for her hand. She grips the bottle of champagne in her other hand, then guides him out of the patio and onto the street. He glances back at the cafe, then at her, and she smiles, tears lingering on her lashes.

“How long were you planning this?” he asks quietly.

“Since Paris,” she murmurs, “but Nomi’s wedding made me feel sure.”

“Me too,” he replies. “That’s why I…”

“Hugged me that night?” she guesses with a small smile.

He nods, then glances at her. “Did anyone know?”

She grins softly. “Just Riley.”

He laughs. “I told Will that night. And Nomi, today.”

“Oh no,” whispers Kala with a bubbly laugh. “Oh no, this month must have been agonizing for Will and Riley, they knew both of us were planning to propose!” Then she looks at him. “Why Nomi?”

“I wasn’t sure how you felt,” he admits.

“About getting married?” she murmurs as they turn onto their street.

He nods, shifting places with her so she can walk under the eaves and stay somewhat dry. She smiles appreciatively.

“It’s you,” she says. “It’s different with you.”

“I feel the same,” he replies quietly. Then he shakes his head. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

She looks cautiously at him. “Do you wish I would have let you?”

“No,” he says solemnly, adding after a pause, “I needed to hear everything you said.”

She meets his eyes. “I meant every word.”

He nods and squeezes her hand. She smiles gently at him, eyes bright with tears again, and then she rests her head on his shoulder while they walk.

“How many candles was that?” he asks after a moment.

She laughs. “Eight hundred. The cafe told me it was a fire hazard, but I didn’t think you would be particularly surprised if something caught fire during my proposal.”

“No,” he says, laughing with her.

She grins and they walk the last block to their apartment.

She breathes out thankfully as they step into the warmth, ringing her hair out and taking off her jacket. She sets the box with the wedding bands on the kitchen counter and pulls two wine glasses from the cupboards. She puts the champagne in the freezer, then glances at Wolfgang.

He takes her hand and leads her into their room. She sits on the bed, watching him, chest tight with anticipation. He holds his breath as he opens the drawer on the bedside table and takes out his gun case.

Kala grins softly. “Good hiding spot.”

He laughs. “Thought so.”

He opens the case and takes the small velvet box out of it, then sets the case back in the drawer. He lets out a breath, staring at the box while he thumbs over it. He doesn’t know what to say, but he feels Kala’s suspense, so he lowers to one knee in front of her.

Though she was expecting it, the image still stops her breath and tears spring in her eyes. He opens the box and her mind swims.

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Oh my God. Wolfgang.”

He takes a breath. “I thought I lost you last year. I knew as soon as I fell in love with you that I would never accept anyone else, so when you were gone, I thought I was going to be alone.”

She nods gently, wiping her eyes.

“Every time I wake up next to you, I’m surprised that I’m not alone. I love you more than it’s possible to express. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

She cries and laughs softly, overwhelmed. He smiles.

“Kala Dandekar, will you marry me?”

Kala nods furiously. He gets to his feet, pulls her up, and they share a messy, enthusiastic kiss. Then he slips the ring onto her finger and she looks down at it, vision blurred with tears.

“I love you,” she says in a small voice, putting her arms around his neck. “God, I love you.”

He grins softly and kisses her again. She responds exuberantly, tightening her arms around him, and then he picks her up and spins her gently. She laughs as he sets her down and then nuzzles his nose with hers.

“We’re getting married,” she murmurs.

He laughs and nods. She looks down at the ring, sniffling.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” she says.

“It’s all I could afford,” he says quietly.

She shakes her head. “I don’t care what you can afford. I just want you.”

He breathes out and nods. She responds with a blazing smile, then darts into the kitchen to bring the champagne and glasses into their room. She hands the bottle to Wolfgang and he grins and pops the cork off of it.

She pours two glasses and lowers the lights. They sit close to each other on their bed, messy from the rain, still shivering. They talk quietly about Paris, exchanging kisses until the bottle of champagne is empty. Then Kala unbuttons Wolfgang’s shirt and he watches her fingers, fixated on the gleam of her engagement ring.

She glances up and smiles luminously at him. “Make love to me all night.”

He laughs and kisses her. “Okay.”

He kisses her again and she smiles against his lips as he presses her into the pillows. Then she wraps her arms around him, pulls back, and brushes her nose on his.

“I’ve never been this happy,” she murmurs, sniffling.

He nods seriously. “Me neither.”

She wipes a tear from under her eye and they continue to kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY'RE ENGAGED NOW! Lots of cute engaged nonsense to follow. 
> 
> This chapter was in response to a prompt (you know who you are, thank you for the constant guidance and sweet comments!)


	25. December 17, 6:48 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang decorate their Christmas tree. Wolfgang drinks enough eggnog to open up about his mother. Kala makes cookies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for brief mentions of nonconsensual sex and child abuse. 
> 
> I tried to be as culturally-accurate as possible with the Christmas traditions in this chapter! If any of you are German and I got something significantly wrong, feel free to tell me and I'll fix it :)

Kala’s knees tremble under the weight of a huge spruce tree. She told Wolfgang it was too big for their apartment, but he didn’t listen, and now they’re carrying it through their door, hands sticky with sap, needles catching in Kala’s hair.

She gasps a breath, sweating, and sends a dark glare at Wolfgang around the side of the tree. He pushes the tree hard through the door, unintentionally knocking Kala to the floor with it, and she sits still, stunned. Then she laughs into her hands, suppressing a snort.

Wolfgang wipes his face free from sweat before noticing Kala. Then he hurries around the tree to pull her to her feet.

“Shit, are you okay?” he says.

She continues to laugh. “It was just my bum, I have some padding there.”

He grins slowly, then squeezes her ass and pulls her close. “Uh huh.”

She rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance. “Wolfgang.”

Her expression transforms into a playful smile and she presses a kiss to his mouth before looking into his eyes.

“Now what?” she asks.

He smiles. “I’ll show you.”

She nods and takes her jacket off, then follows him into their bedroom. He opens the closet, looking at a shelf above the clothes -- a few black and grey sweaters next to a sea of colorful dresses -- and spots a box with Christmas supplies. Kala looks at him in surprise, but smiles rather than says anything.

He pulls the box off the shelf and they return to the living room.

Kala thinks bringing a tree inside and decorating it is a bit strange, but she knows it matters to Wolfgang because he was never allowed to experience it growing up, and she’s sure he finds some of her traditions strange too.

“Do you have a saw?” she asks, glancing at the trunk of the tree, hoping to shorten it a couple of feet.

Wolfgang puts his hands on his hips, beginning to see her point about the size of the tree. “Think so.”

He disappears into their room again and returns with a small, rusted saw. Kala glances at it with a slight frown.

“I wasn’t expecting you to have one,” she murmurs.

He shrugs. “I have a box of tools Felix gave me.”

They sit down on the floor together and Wolfgang tilts his head, studying the trunk of the tree. He saws while Kala holds the trunk, and she sits back with a relieved sigh when the saw breaks through to the other side.

“Shit,” murmurs Wolfgang, gesturing at the divet in his floor from the saw.

“The landlady already despises us because you smoke inside,” says Kala with a shrug.

He laughs. “Yeah, she does.”

Kala laughs too and grins softly. Then she hops to her feet and pulls him up. He takes a tree stand out of the Christmas box and Kala frowns at the contraption.

“Help me lift it,” says Wolfgang.

She helps him lift the tree into the stand, wrinkling her nose with effort, and then he drops to his knees to fasten the tree into place.

“Is it straight?” he asks, glancing at her from between the branches.

She steps back, appraising, and frowns. “Left. _My_ left. Um...towards the window. Okay there!”

He stands with her after a moment and smiles. The top of the tree just brushes the ceiling. Kala grins, puts an arm around Wolfgang’s waist, and rests her head on his shoulder.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs. “Lights now?”

He nods, but looks down at himself and pauses at the sap and dirt on his jacket.

“Pajamas first?” suggests Kala. “And eggnog?”

He nods in agreement and they go into their room together.

“You aren’t wearing that?” Wolfgang jokes, gesturing at the penguin-themed onesie Lito sent her, complete with neon tinsel on the hood and cuffs.

“Lito,” sighs Kala, shaking her head and pulling a pair of green shorts from her pajama drawer. She pairs them with a red tank top. “Do I have the colors right?”

He nods. She beams, exchanging her current clothes for the pajamas. He puts on a pair of sweats and a black sweater and then they go into the kitchen. They wash the sap off their hands, and then she pulls a jug of eggnog out of the fridge and he searches behind the various vodkas in the liquor cabinet for some rum.

“Alright,” she says, reading the label on the eggnog. “This says...one ounce of rum to six ounces of eggnog…” She trails off, watching Wolfgang pour servings significantly larger than an ounce into two glasses. “I’m half of your size.”

“Then you have one and I’ll have two,” he says with a shrug.

She looks at the glass, envisioning the improper things she’ll feel tempted to do with him after that much rum. Then she puffs her lips out, giving in, and fills the glasses the rest of the way with eggnog. They clink the glasses and smile at each other before taking a sip.

“Frohe Weihnachten*, babe,” he murmurs.

She smiles and repeats the words, then leans to kiss him gently. They grin at each other and return to the living room, sitting on the floor once more, going through the Christmas box. He pulls out several strings of lights and hums in thought.

“These are from...1995.”

“Mm,” says Kala.

They look at each other and laugh, and then he stretches to plug them in. They light up, all warm white, and Kala grins in surprise.

“German engineering,” she teases.

He snorts and unplugs them. She finds Christmas music on her phone and sets it on the edge of the coffee table to play. They work together to wrap the lights around the tree, and Kala steps back earlier than Wolfgang since she’s too short to reach the top of the tree. She lets him finish, watching, chirping advice, sipping her eggnog. Then he steps back too.

“It’s gorgeous,” she says.

He nods and smiles faintly. Then he nudges her onto the couch, pulling the box of ornaments up with them. It’s an old shoe box for heels, the original tissue paper still within.

“Were these your mother’s shoes?” Kala asks.

He nods.

“She was tiny,” Kala goes on, thumbing over the  _37_  on the side of the box.*

“She was.” He shrugs. “She was young, she was eighteen when she had me.”

Kala murmurs in surprise, envisioning the circumstances. She glances cautiously at Wolfgang and asks, “Why was she with your father?”

“She never explained much to me,” he says quietly. “She worked in a bakery during the day and cleaned the bar he’d go to at night. I’m sure he didn’t give her a choice, and then she was pregnant, and her family made her marry him.”

Kala nods and quietly says, “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, also thumbing over the number. “I wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t love me, I was related to him.” He takes the lid off the box. “But she did. She bought me an ornament every year. She didn’t make much and my father took most of it. But she hid enough to buy an ornament.” He smiles faintly and picks up an ornament of a baby rattle and turns it over, looking at the ink on the bottom -- 1990. “She picked something to match every year.”

“What is this one for?” Kala asks, picking up an ornament shaped like a blackbird.

He laughs. “One got into our house, I was eight. We couldn’t get it out for hours.”

“How did you?” she asks.

“We closed all the curtains except one and opened the window,” he explains.

“And it flew towards the light,” murmurs Kala.

He nods. “She insisted she saw the same bird that spring, but it wasn’t. But she always saw what she wanted to.”

“What was her name?” asks Kala gently.

“Elyse Becker,” says Wolfgang. “I never knew her family. They barely talked to her after she was pregnant.” He shrugs. “Some of them might be alive, but I wouldn’t know how to find them.”

“Nomi could,” murmurs Kala.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want her to.”

Kala nods, understanding. Then she picks up an ornament which is a simple piece of concrete.

“What’s this?” she asks, glancing at the ink on the bottom -- 1989.

“A piece of the wall,” says Wolfgang.

She looks at him in surprise and sips her eggnog. She feels privileged to know what no one else knows about him. She moves her fingers over the concrete and smiles gently.

“She left in the middle of the night when he was drunk to get it,” says Wolfgang, smiling slightly. “She was excited. She said she carried me with her but I don’t remember.”

Kala nods, then stretches to put the ornament on the tree. He silently copies her, until all ten ornaments are attached.

Kala looks at the empty box. Just ten ornaments. Her lips curve down, chest suddenly heavy with shared grief, and she squeezes Wolfgang’s hand.

“Our family will be different,” she says quietly.

He doesn’t pursue the words, simply kisses the side of her head, but he can’t resist the urge to slide a hand over her tummy and briefly imagine. She perceives the touch as merely affectionate and kisses him.

“Now what?” she whispers, glancing at the tree.

The ornaments are sparse, but they can pick up more tomorrow. He continues to look through the box, which he hasn’t done since a drunken night when he was fourteen, desperate for connection with his mama.

There are several old garlands, some novelty reindeer antlers, and a Santa hat, which he vaguely remembers her putting on for him one night. At the very bottom, beyond half-melted candles, he finds a recipe card.

He picks up the card. Her handwriting is slanted, long loops on the f’s and l’s _._

“Vanillekipferl,” Kala sounds out.

He smiles distantly. “She made these every year.”

Kala nods, then glances at him. “We should make them.”

He looks at her in surprise and she smiles assuredly. Then he smiles back.

“Okay,” he says quietly, remembering the way he would sneak into the bakery his mother worked at, the way she would bribe him to leave her alone with vanillekipferl and send him on his way into the neighborhood.

Kala nuzzles the side of his nose, then takes the recipe card out of his hand and studies the spidery, italic writing.

“Her hand always shook,” he reflects.

She glances at him. “Why?”

“She was scared, all the time,” he replies.

Kala nods, eyes glistening with emotion in the light from the tree.

“She wasn’t crazy,” he says more softly. “She was scared.”

Kala nods again, then breathes in and kisses his cheek. He smiles thankfully and she pulls him to his feet. They go into the kitchen, Kala studying the recipe card.

“This is simple,” she says.

She goes around the kitchen, pulling sugar, flour, and almond flour from the pantry, then butter from the fridge.

“Did you buy all this?” he asks, looking at the ingredients.

“I cook every day,” she murmurs, flashing a warm smile at him.

He nods. “True. That’s why I’m marrying you.”

She grins and laughs, then gestures at him to get a bowl. He hands one to her and she begins to measure the ingredients.

“Could you cut the butter up?” she asks him. “Into little cubes, please.”

He glances at her, smiling slightly, and unwraps the foil from around the butter. She finishes her eggnog and pours the sugar into the bowl, then directs him to put the butter in.

She blends the butter with the flour and sugar with her fingertips.

“How do you just…” he gestures at her. “How do you know how to make these?”

“Well, Wolfgang, this is a recipe, and believe it or not, it has step-by-step instructions--”

He finishes his eggnog, trying hard not to laugh. “Okay, Kala.”

She softens and smiles. “Cooking has always felt very intuitive to me,” she explains as she digs into a nearby cabinet for vanilla beans, adding, “babe would you get me another eggnog?”

He nods and mixes another drink for each of them, then joins her again. She beams and holds up a vanilla bean.

“These are amazing, come here, smell,” she says, offering the bean to him.

He sniffs it and grins. She places it on the cutting board, splits it with a knife, then scrapes out millions of tiny vanilla seeds. He wrinkles his brow.

“That’s where those come from?” he murmurs.

She nods, adding quietly, “You’re adorable.”

He shoves her playfully and she turns, grinning, and puts her arms around his neck.

“You are,” she insists, kissing him with an intensity he didn’t expect, then groaning and leaning heavily against him. “Oh, this is why I can’t have eggnog.”

He laughs, runs his hands over her ass, and presses a rough kiss against her neck. She grins softly at the brush of his stubble and tangles her fingers in his shirt.

“This is how we’ll die,” she murmurs. “I’ll be cooking something, you’ll come into the kitchen, we’ll disappear to make love, and then whatever I was cooking will start on fire and our house will burn down.”

He nods. “Sounds about right.”

She grins and shakes her head, then lifts her face for another kiss. He smiles against her lips and they both laugh as she steps away.

“Okay,” she says quietly, returning to the cookies.

She puts the oven on, takes a cookie sheet from a cupboard -- she bought dozens of kitchen items after being in Berlin a week, struggling to cook with the one pan Wolfgang had -- and sets it near the bowl of dough. She mixes the vanilla seeds into the dough, the scoops out a small amount and rolls it into a ball.

Wolfgang shakes his head and takes the ball from her, rolling it instead into a cylinder, then curves it so it’s shaped like a crescent moon. Kala looks at him in surprise.

“They’re always shaped like this,” he says.

She frowns at the recipe card. “But…”

“It’s just something you know if you’re German,” he explains with a shrug. “This was the only part she let me help with.”

Kala smiles and glances at him. “Did you help her cook very often?”

He laughs. “No, she didn’t trust me.”

She nods, forming more dough into a crescent shape. “Cookies are easy for children, my father always let me make nankhatai* with him...Daya loved them, she would always dip them into her tea. I think it made her feel fancy. We never had much before the restaurant was successful, but I never minded.” She sips her eggnog and smiles distantly. “Wealth has always made me quite uncomfortable, I’m relieved to be living in a real home again. The flat was so beautiful, but it felt like a laboratory, I always felt so cold there.”

He looks at her for a moment, then smiles and kisses her quickly. She grins and leans against him, continuing to shape the cookies, and she shivers after a moment.

“Babe, will you turn the heat up?” she asks.

“It’s already too hot in here,” he replies.

She sighs and goes into their bedroom in search of a sweater. Then she sees the onesie Lito sent, pauses, and grins. She puts it on, stretching her toes into the fleece footies, and pulls the hood over her head. She walks back into the kitchen and Wolfgang freezes, then shakes his head, grinning.

“Have you _ever_ been more attracted to me?” she asks as she walks up to him.

He bites his bottom lip and smirks. “That’s how I know it’s real, you’re wearing that and I still want to fuck you.”

Kala’s cheeks flood with color and she covers her face, laughing. He continues smirking, pleased with himself, and pulls her closer by the loose fabric of the outfit. She giggles feebly and snuggles against him, then tilts her head back and they share a lengthy kiss.

They continue to make the cookies, leaning against each other and sipping eggnog until all the dough is gone. They put the cookies in the oven and set a timer, then return to the living room to sit by the tree. Kala tucks her legs under her bum, leaning back into the cushions, and then looks through the Christmas box again. Wolfgang rests his head in her lap and she thumbs absentmindedly over his temple.

“What are these?” she murmurs, showing him one of several carved wooden angels.

“Weihnachtsengel, my mother would set them in the window of my room, said they would protect me. Didn’t work.”

Kala breathes out and smiles sadly. “No. She was religious?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “It comforted her to think there was something after this.”

Kala hums in thought. “Was her life always very hard? Even before she met your father?”

He nods. “Her family was very poor and her parents disagreed with the government in East Germany, her father objected to the military, so they put him in a Baueinheiten, which was a camp for unarmed soldiers, or barracks, something, I don’t know. They were responsible for all the military construction.”

“Her parents were pacifists?” Kala asks in surprise, examining the angel figurine.

He nods. “Her father died when she was six, and her mother barely made any money.” He pauses and sits up to drink the rest of his eggnog, then settles his head in Kala’s lap again. He shakes his head and smiles slightly. “Oma Becker was a force of nature, apparently, that’s the phrase my mother always used. I could see it in her sometimes, she never lied to me about hard things, she never let me get away with anything stupid or dangerous. I climbed the fire escape on our building once and fell off into the snow, and I thought she’d be relieved I was alright, but she slapped me.”

“She hit you too?”

He shrugs. “In the way most parents do. I always deserved it, I never listened.”

Kala smiles at this. “No, I can’t imagine you were well-behaved.”

He shakes his head, reflecting. “She liked to scare the shit out of me.”

Kala perks an eyebrow in interest. “Why?”

“I think because her mother scared her and she wanted the same power,” he says with a shrug. “Or to keep me in line.” He glances at her and grins. “Do you know the story about Frau Perchta?”

“Oh no,” murmurs Kala. “No. Do I want to?”

“No you don’t, but you have to listen to it because I heard it every Christmas,” he says. “C’mere.”

She smiles and shifts so she’s lying next to him on the couch. He pulls her close and she closes her eyes, putting her arms around him.

“Frau Perchta… is an evil goddess,” he begins, but Kala interrupts.

“You sound _far_ too excited about what I am sure is a typically-grim German story.”

He grins and knees her softly so she stops talking.

“Frau Perchta is an evil goddess,” he repeats, “with two faces. Sometimes she’s young and beautiful with white hair, sometimes she’s ugly and old with horns and fur, and one of her feet is always bigger than the other.”

“Why?” murmurs Kala.

“No idea,” he replies. “She wanders around the country during Christmas to leave silver coins for children who were good.” He starts to laughs. “But if she finds someone who wasn’t good, adult or child, she slits them open, takes their stomach out, and fills the hole up with garbage and straw.”

Kala frowns in alarm.

“My mother would always tell me Perchta was coming for me,” says Wolfgang. “Then there’s Krampus. He’s this goat demon who appears on Krampusnacht to find bad kids.”

“Mm, does he murder them like Perchta?” asks Kala.

“It depends,” says Wolfgang. “Sometimes he just hits them with a switch, sometimes he chains them up and puts them in a sack, then he takes them away and...eats them, or drowns them, or throws them down into Hell.”

“Why are children’s stories all so violent here?” asks Kala, wrinkling her nose.

He shakes his head, nonplussed, and jokes, “Your parents didn’t tell you stories like this?”

“No, not once,” laughs Kala. “Auntie sometimes told me an old folktale about why strength or unity is important, things like that. But no, I was not routinely told a demon would murder me if I didn’t behave.”

“It wasn’t effective with me,” he reflects. “I always told my mother I’d fight them off. "He pauses and goes on more softly, “I told her once if I could fight my father, I could fight them too, and she got quiet. She knew what was happening to me, and I knew what he was doing to her, but we never talked to each other about it. Talking was useless.”

Kala nods, then combs her fingers through his hair and murmurs, “Maybe she told you those stories so you would behave so he wouldn’t…”

He nods then nuzzles his face into her neck and holds her closer. She swallows the urge to cry and kisses the side of his head.

Then he mumbles, “It’s getting easier,” and she stops breathing in surprise. He puts an arm under his head, propping up so he can look at her, and smiles faintly. “We’re getting married and the job’s helping and...my life’s different. Stupid that it took me this long to realize.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not stupid. Everything was always so uncertain.” Then she smiles, and because she’s fairly drunk, goes on, “We won’t tell our children those stories.”

“No,” he says, laughing. He kisses her softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Then she grins. “Are you a bit drunk?”

“Yeah, very, I’m going to regret everything I told you tomorrow,” he says.

“Do you want to get more drunk and sing carols with me?”

“Fuck yes,” he says, and she laughs and pulls him to his feet.

An hour later, having sung along to a Christmas album, danced, eaten half the batch of vanillekipferl and split a jug of mulled wine, Kala finds herself laughing until she's breathless on the kitchen floor, watching as Wolfgang -- who is now wearing the reindeer antlers, boxers, and nothing else -- stands on a chair to fix the overhead light. He had asked her to toss him his water bottle, and she miscalculated badly, and the light paid the price.

“Don’t fall!” she gasps through laughter. “Please don’t fall!”

He screws the new lightbulb in. “That was the worst throw ever, babe. Ever.”

“I know, I’ve had too much to drink, you can’t blame me!”

“You’re as bad as Felix,” he replies.

“Oh, take that back!” she shouts.

He jumps down from the chair when he's done and reaches around the dark kitchen for the light switch. He flicks it and the light comes back on, and then he looks down at Kala, who’s flushed from laughing, eyes crinkled.

“Why are you on the floor?” he asks, frowning.

“I...I don’t remember,” she murmurs and they both start to laugh again.

He pulls her to her feet and she hiccups and fans herself. She’s about to get them both a glass of water, but someone knocks on the door and they frown at each other.

They walk into the living room and Wolfgang opens the door, revealing Felix, who has a basket of gifts in his arms. Felix’s eyes widen in horror as he looks from Wolfgang’s reindeer antlers, to his boxers, to Kala’s onesie.

“Okay, quick question, how drunk are you?” he asks.

Kala answers this by excitedly shouting “Felix!” and throwing her arms around him.

“That drunk,” says Felix, adding to Wolfgang, “The fuck are you wearing?”

“She made me,” says Wolfgang.

“Don’t want to know,” says Felix quickly.

“Because it’s hot,” he goes on, adding after a reflective pause, “like, the air. The air is hot. Not the...you know what I’m saying. I was too hot. She turned the heat up all the way.”

Felix glances at Kala after she releases him. “You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

Kala pulls the hood of her onesie up to reveal the penguin face on the top of it. “Do I look like the responsible one, Felix?”

Felix starts to grin and he sets the basket of gifts down. Then he pulls his phone out.

“Okay, scooch together, I’m taking a picture and sending it to everyone.”

They obey, too drunk to argue or shy away, and he snaps a picture. They start to laugh when they look at each other. Felix shakes his head, relishing his good timing, then slides the basket of gifts farther into the apartment with his foot.

“I thought we could all have a drink, but that’s the last fucking thing you two need, so I’m gonna go,” says Felix, laughing, adding with a tilt of his head at Wolfgang, “You should consider wearing those all the time.”

Wolfgang grins. “Fuck off.”

Felix grins back. “Frohe Weihnachten, you adorable drunk puppies.”

Kala beams and waves goodbye, then looks jubilantly at Wolfgang and pulls him into the kitchen to eat more cookies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Frohe Weihnachten = Merry Christmas  
> 37 size shoes in Europe are the equivalent of size 6 in the U.S.  
> Nankhatai = a small cookie popular in India
> 
> Thanks to the podcast Lore for supplying me with terrifying German stories (it's an amazing podcast if you're into anything dark, supernatural, or otherwise creepy.)


	26. December 23, 7:17 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang go to a Christmas party. Wolfgang gets jealous, and Kala gets creative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep writing smut and I am not sorry. This is in response to the jealous!Wolfgang prompt I got...thank you for prompting! I think this comes across as protective rather than jealous, but I tried.

Kala yawns as she walks through the door, returning from a taxing day at work. She kicks her heels off, knowing Wolfgang will find them later and patiently put them on the shoe rack, and then continues into their room and flops on the bed. She listens to the shower shut off and glances up at Wolfgang as he comes in from the bathroom.

“I do _not_ want to go to this party tonight,” she says tiredly.

“Do you have to?” he asks, toweling off his hair.

“No, but they were so nice to hire me, I want to show my appreciation,” she says, adding after a while, “It is at a nice venue. And I get to show off my handsome fiancé.”

He rolls his eyes, but she catches a glimpse of a smile. “Does this involve me wearing a suit?”

“Yes, but you shouldn’t complain, you know what seeing you in a suit does to me,” she replies, holding his gaze and smirking slightly.

“You aren’t as shy as I remember you,” he says, starting to grin.

“I can let down my guard now that I know we’re getting married and you’re stuck with me.”

He laughs and wraps the towel around his waist, then sits by her on the bed. She smiles, twitching her finger at him so he comes closer, and then kisses him hello.

“I missed you today,” she murmurs in between kisses, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“We have to go?” he mumbles.

She pulls back and sighs quietly. “Yes, I’m sorry.” She glances at the slender watch on her wrist and sighs again. “I should shower. Pick my dress out?”

He wrinkles his brow slightly. “Why?”

“Because I want to wear what you want to see me in,” she explains quietly.

An hour later, having gotten dressed and texted Felix to complain about ties, Wolfgang goes into the bathroom, leans on the doorframe, and watches Kala touch up her makeup. She’s wearing a slinky gold dress which hugs her hips.

She smiles at him in the reflection of the mirror, and his eyes follow the curve of her body, pausing at her ass. He holds his breath, envisioning her bent over the counter, panties on the floor. Her eyes darken as she watches him in the reflection.

“What are you thinking of?”

His eyes linger on her ass and he shrugs, expression impassive. “You look nice.”

She presses her lips together, fighting a satisfied smile, and applies a final coat of mascara. He flicks his gaze up to take in a hint of cleavage reflected in the mirror, resisting the urge to press her against the counter and make her messy just before an office party. He settles for hugging her and kissing her behind her ear.

She smiles, eyes full of warmth, and turns to put her arms around him. She smells like jasmine, she’s accentuated her plump lips with bright red gloss, and her body is warm under his hands. He breathes in, aware how long the night is going to feel while he waits to be alone with her.

She tilts her head, watching him, then presses a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth. She wipes the color off his skin and he smiles.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says sincerely.

Her brow twitches in affection and she puts her hands on both sides of his face. She smiles and kisses him again, then takes his hands and leads him out of the bathroom.

She puts on a chic black coat and glances over her shoulder at him as they leave their apartment. They walk down the street to his parking space and get in the car, and he puts a hand on her thigh before he sticks the key in the ignition. She shivers slightly, then smiles at him.

“Where do you want our honeymoon to be?” she murmurs, resting her head on the seat as they pull onto the icy street.

He glances at her, startled by the question, then shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

“Paris?” she asks. “I know we’re moving there but…”

“But it’s our city,” he agrees.

She smiles and nods. “It is.” She takes his hand and tangles their fingers together. “Is June too soon?”

He shakes his head. “I’d marry you tonight.”

She laughs. “I would marry you, too. But I want everyone there.” She pauses and goes on more softly, “I want my family there and they need time.”

He nods. “June’s fine.”

“I thought…” she trails off and shakes her head. “Never mind.”

He glances at her, turning onto a wide road with a tree-lined median. “What?”

“That’s when we were going to meet in Paris before and I…” She takes a breath. “I think we deserve to have that.”

He drops his gaze and nods. “We do.”

She squeezes his hand, turning to look out of the window, at the blur of buildings, the haze of falling snow. He glances at her, then looks at the engagement ring on her left hand and smiles slightly to himself. His stomach swoops every time he notices the ring and he’s never able to resist smiling; his usual self-restraint seems to be failing, which he would worry about, but he knows how stupid-in-love he is with this woman. He knows she’s the exception.

He moves his hand down to squeeze her leg once more. She smiles more widely and they drive in comfortable silence, over the canal, into Mitte, past the [Fernsehturm](https://www.tagesspiegel.de/images/berlin/14916756/1-format43.jpg), and through the Alexanderplatz tunnel.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Kala says as they pull up to the bar the party is being held at.

He nods, shifting into the tight parking space with a slight frown. She glances at him as he pulls the keys from the ignition.

“Some of my coworkers are...very excited we’re getting married...and may be overly exuberant,” she warns him.

He breathes out, resigning himself, and Kala laughs. They get out of the car and cross the icy slice of sidewalk to the bar.

The inside of the bar features white and taupe bricks, a counter backlit with sapphire light, and leather furniture. There are several Christmas trees and delicate red and green lanterns strung from the ceiling beams. Despite being slightly early, they find the bar already crowded with chemists, pharmacists, reps, and doctors. Kala notices her boss, Mrs. Chopra, and waves shyly.

She walks over to say hello, and the next half hour is a deluge of questions, compliments, toasting, and teasing. Kala and Wolfgang, separated by the crowd, eventually find each other at the bar and exchange a tired glance.

“One of my coworkers just told me she hopes we have blue-eyed babies,” says Kala.

Wolfgang grinds his palms into his face and shakes his head, and then they laugh together, exhausted. He puts an arm around her waist and kisses the side of her head.

“Gotta piss, get me a drink,” he says.

She takes a seat at the bar, and orders beer for him and a glass of white wine for herself, listening to the clink and chatter of the party behind her. A man she recognizes from a rival pharmaceutical company, a tall brunette with sharp eyebrows, sits next to her and looks her over.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Kala’s eyes widen in surprise and she swallows. She knew Rajan well before he ever flirted with her, and Wolfgang was always different. She isn’t entirely sure how to respond until she feels Riley and Lito in her mind.

“That’s kind of you, but I’m engaged,” she says.

The man shrugs. “Engaged isn’t married. I’m Damien.”

Kala blinks in disbelief and smiles gratefully at the bartender when the drinks arrive, and the bartender, reminiscent of Amanita, glares at the man. Kala glances over her shoulder for Wolfgang, but doesn’t find him.

“As you can see, I already have a drink,” she says, looking straight ahead.

“Then I’ll buy you one when you’re finished,” he says.

“No, thank you,” says Kala.

“Your German is very good, where did you learn?”

She silently sips her wine.

“I asked you a question, you could be polite at least,” he snaps.

“I have no reason to be polite to you,” she replies irritably, resisting Sun’s urge to punch him.

Meanwhile, Wolfgang emerges on the other side of the bar, adjusting a cufflink which came unclasped. He looks up and stops at the sight of Kala talking to another man.

For a moment the noise of the crowd disappears and he finds himself unable to take a step, vision blurring with confusion and hot jealousy. The rational part of his mind assures him she only wants him, and the annoyed expression on her face seems to confirm this, but this fails to convince his irrational half. His fingers twitch against his palms, forming fists. He wants to drag the man into the alley behind the bar and knock him unconscious, but he knows that isn’t an appropriate response, and he knows Kala would be embarrassed.

He waits another moment, watching as the man gestures at the bartender to refill Kala’s wine. The bartender ignores his request, but he seems undeterred, and seconds later, he reaches out and squeezes Kala’s knee. She jumps, and Wolfgang shares the sudden surge of fear that courses through her. She looks at the man incredulously and Wolfgang clenches his jaw against a wave of anger. He can’t specifically remember the last time he felt like this, but he suspects it was towards someone who put Kala or one of his Cluster in danger, and it’s likely he took away their chance to endanger them again.

If he says what he wants to, he knows it will be hard to avoid a fight, and as satisfying as a fight would be, he doesn’t want to jeopardize Kala’s job. As he pushes through the crowd towards Kala, an idea strikes him. He slows his approach, and silently takes a seat next to her. She looks at him with wide, questioning eyes.

“What are you having?” he asks her, glancing at her glass.

“Chardonnay,” she says cautiously.

He nods, then looks at the bartender. “Another for her, thank you.”

The bartender hesitates, but Kala nods her approval. The other man looks indignantly at Wolfgang.

“What the hell?” he asks. “I was talking to her.”

“Now I’m talking to her, fuck off,” Wolfgang says with a shrug.

The man shakes his head and looks at Kala. “So you let _him_ buy you a drink and not me?” He gets up and mutters as he leaves, “Whore.”

Wolfgang jolts, all concerns about etiquette gone, and gets to his feet before Kala can stop him. He grabs the back of the man’s jacket and twists his arm behind his body until he hears a crack. The man doubles over, gasping and clutching his arm, and looks at Wolfgang in horror before his friends surround him and dial an ambulance. Wolfgang looks back impassively and takes the seat next to Kala without a word.

She stares at him, pulse racing, shocked. He looks into her eyes, searching, but they don’t speak. Then she swallows and takes a sip of wine.

“Thank you for the drink,” she murmurs.

Wolfgang looks at her in surprise, then slowly smiles and drinks his beer.

“And for what you did,” she goes on, adding, “although I’ve been known to defend myself quite effectively.”

“I’m sure you have,” he replies.

Kala glances at Wolfgang, her body suddenly tight with desire, and smiles flirtatiously. He lifts his beer, she mirrors him, and they both take a drink.

She grins softly, but he keeps his expression in check.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

She glances down, cheeks hot, and wets her lips with a soft brush of her tongue. She didn't expect a game like this to affect her so strongly, but she suddenly needs to be alone with him.

“Kala," she murmurs. "Yours?”

“Wolfgang,” he replies, sipping his beer. “Are you from here?”

She rubs her fingertips over the condensation on her wine glass, thinking. “I went to college here.”

“Oh,” he says, “for what?”

She tilts her head. “Medicine.”

He resists the urge to smile at Kala’s vision of her alternate self.

“Doctor?” he asks.

She bites her bottom lip, then nods. “Immunology.”

“What’s that?” he asks, drinking more beer.

“I study the immune system and autoimmune diseases. Sometimes the body attacks itself, isn’t that strange?”

“Sounds dark,” he replies.

She smiles. “What do you do?”

He shrugs, and she can tell by the curve of his lips that he’s barely resisting laughter. “I don’t think I should tell you.”

They are careful not to meet eyes, knowing the spell will break if they laugh. He shakes his head and drinks his beer. Then he glances at her engagement ring.

“Should you tell me to fuck off?” he asks.

She looks at the ring as well. “Maybe. But I’m not going to.”

“Good, I want to take you home,” he replies.

She nearly asks him if he would really say that to a woman, and his expression provides the answer: yes _._  She almost laughs, wondering how many women this has worked on before. Then she realizes it would have worked on her -- _is_ working on her -- and she sips her wine.

“Do you live nearby?” she murmurs.

He nods. “Five minutes, my car is outside.”

She looks at her watch and sees they’ve been at the party the socially-acceptable hour, and she decides it would be advantageous to leave before the paramedics show up and ask questions, so she finishes her wine and gets to her feet. She says quick goodbyes to coworkers as she walks to the door with Wolfgang, then retrieves her jacket from the coat check. He puts it over her shoulders for her.

They step into the frigid night and she flushes pink. His breath catches as he stares at her. Then he slides his hand down her waist and leads her towards his car. Her figure is familiar, but the game they’ve been playing makes her feel new. They get into the car and he gently grips her thigh while he drives, and she stares at him, exhilarated, but doesn’t speak.

Five minutes later, Kala looks around the familiar apartment as if she’s never seen it, walking slowly through the entryway. She’s about to compliment the apartment, but Wolfgang takes her waist, presses her to the nearest wall, and kisses her fiercely. She takes a short, surprised breath, motionless, and then responds with a needy moan and puts her arms around him. He tilts his face down, spoiling her neck with rough nips and kisses while he unbuckles his belt. She shivers at pace and intensity of it all and her pulse pounds.

He steps back to take her jacket off and they exchange a quick glance, eyes flashing, skin bright with sweat. Kala catches her breath before he kisses her again, messy and deep, and moans her approval when he grips her breasts. She tips her head back, closing her eyes, and he drags his hands down her body to her thighs and teasingly pushes the hem of her dress up. She half expects him to fuck her here in the doorway, which she wouldn’t object to, but after another moment, he leads her towards their room.

They continue kissing, walking blindly through the dark until they reach the bed. Wolfgang sits down on it and reaches to turn on a soft light. Kala stands in front of him and he runs his hands down the sides of her legs, studying her. He’s about to pull her into bed, but she steps back.

She slowly pulls her dress over her head, leaving a strapless black bra and matching panties, all lace, slightly transparent. She watches Wolfgang’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, watches his fingers twitch in anticipation, but she doesn’t let him touch her yet. She plays with her hair for a brief moment, pink in the face, then squeezes her breasts, adding a soft pout when she releases them.

“Good?” she whispers.

“Turn around,” he says, but his voice betrays his cool demeanor.

She turns and looks over her shoulder. She unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the floor, then slowly bends over to take her heels off. Wolfgang’s gaze follows the line of her legs up to her ass and it takes all his restraint not to touch her, but he knows he should wait until she’s done giving him a show.

She casts the heels to the side, then rolls her spine so she’s standing again. She turns around and meets his gaze, breasts gently rising and falling with her nervous breath, and then she slides her panties off and tosses them aside. She gives him the smallest smile and tucks her hair behind her ear and he takes in her image, drunk with impatience, overwhelmed. She isn’t just a woman he met at a bar. She followed an impulse to slowly undress in front of him, a response to the events at the party, because she’s all his.

“You keep surprising me,” he murmurs, forgetting their game.

Kala breathes out, blushing, then smiles more widely and holds her hand out. He takes it and pulls her closer, kissing her between her breasts, hugging her gently. She tilts her head back at the feeling, then grins when he kisses down her ribcage and squeezes her ass.

“What would you like?” she whispers, flushed.

“Whatever you--”

“No,” Kala says softly, seriously. “What do you want, love?”

He reflects on this while stroking her between her legs. She whines quietly and twitches helplessly towards his touch but finds the presence of mind to take off his blazer and begins to unbutton his shirt.

She groans quietly as he presses his fingers into her.

He kisses a freckle under one of her breasts, then brings his hand up so she can suck on his fingers. He drowns in the image and pulls his fingers down her chin and over one of her breasts, lingering on her nipple. She keens against him and then they look at each other, breathless.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, pulling her onto the bed.

She lies back, body open, and looks up at him. He hovers over her for a moment, then shifts down and kisses each of her hip bones. It’s been too long since he’s gone down on her and she nearly convulses in impatience, but he doesn't make her wait. He pulls her abruptly against him and she moans deeply at the first flick of his tongue.

“You taste so sweet,” he mumbles, his stubble tickling her between her legs, the soft breath of his speech making her jump.

The words dizzy her and she lets her head fall to one side. She reaches down and combs her fingers slowly through his hair while he eats her. He holds her closer by the minute, fingernails in her skin, feeling her shiver as he increases his pace. After a few short minutes, his name is incoherent on her lips, and he grips her thighs hard, pushing them further apart, spreading her. She moans loudly, reaching up to grip the covers, half-sobbing as she tilts her hips closer to him. A final swipe of his tongue sends her over the edge, leaving her a mess of moans and unintelligible, overwhelmed mumbles.

He presses a string of wet kisses to each of her thighs and she lets her head fall back, panting. He shifts upward and she leans to kiss him, drunk, blissful, skin hot and sticky with sweat. She bumps her nose against his, asking, impatient, and presses her hips up. But he makes her wait, slow touches over her lips, her nipples. He leans down to tease her breasts with kisses and she grins and groans and reaches to push his pants lower on his body.

“I can’t wait any longer,” she says, all breath.

He nods and works his pants down, then slides into her. They both groan in relief and he grips her closer, rolls his hips against hers so he’s as deep as possible, and drinks in the sound of her surprised moan. She stretches and kisses him with everything she has, suddenly desperate to convey the intensity of her feelings, and he returns the kiss with as much warmth and energy as her before nuzzling into her neck and kissing her there. She runs her hands over his back, then follows the movement of his hips, sharing kisses, murmuring her approval. After ten minutes of slow, deep sex, he feels her nails bite into his skin, notices her breathing abate. She closes her eyes and lets out a heavy, emphatic moan, and he quickens his pace. Then a quiet whine builds in her throat. 

“Wolfgang,” she breathes, beginning to throb around him. “Wolfgang…"

The sound of his name, gritty and soft at once, sends an electric impulse down his legs and he thrusts hard into her. She cries out and nods desperately, tightening her legs around his waist, asking for complete closeness while she comes. He kisses her neck again, and when he slides his hands under her back to pull her closer, she half-moans, half-screams, dazed by the intensity, waves of pleasure rolling through her legs to her toes. He groans her name as they rock through the final seconds together, then breathes out hard and comes inside of her.

He lets his weight down on her after a moment, both of them drenched and panting.

“Oh my God,” she murmurs, awed and alive with sensation.

Then the neighbor knocks on the wall and shouts, "Are you finally done?" and Kala turns a darker shade of red than she already is. She looks at the ceiling with wide eyes, speechless. Wolfgang turns onto his back and covers his face with his hand, shaking his head, laughing.

 "You're going to get us kicked out, babe."

"Oh my God," Kala whispers. "Oh Ganesha, oh no...I didn't think I was being so loud..."

Wolfgang reaches for his box of cigarettes on the side table and lights up. She wipes her face free of moisture, chest heaving, still out of breath.

Then she dissolves into a fit of laughter and he glances at her.

“What?” he murmurs.

“You broke a man’s arm tonight,” she says, astonished.

“Yeah...” he replies, adding with a slight frown, “surprised that’s all I did.”

She grins, startled how remorseless she feels about this incident, and then turns over to snuggle against Wolfgang. She tucks her face into his neck, expression softening, breath finally steady. He moves his hand up and down her thigh and smokes in silence for a few minutes.

Then he asks, “What man flirts with a woman who’s getting married?”

Kala hesitates, then sleepily replies, “You.”

He pauses, then laughs at the truth of that statement. “I wouldn’t have if you loved him.”

“I think you would have,” she murmurs. “You really wanted me…”

He nods. “I did. Wouldn’t have touched you if you didn’t want me to, though.”

She smiles, then lifts her face to look at him and says, “I like it when you fight for me. Even if I don't need you too.”

He smiles in response and kisses her. She grins and twines her fingers with his and then her lips soften.

“Every time we’re together,” she murmurs, gaze steady and warm, “I think it couldn’t possibly be better than the last time...and I believe I’ve told you that’s the best we’ve ever had more than once but I’ll do it again...that’s the best we’ve ever had.”

He laughs quietly, then nods. “It’s never felt like this before, only with you.”

She looks down, cheeks dark, and murmurs, “I love it when you…”

She trails off and he squeezes her thigh.

“When I what?” he asks, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

She holds her breath and eyes him. “You know.”

He shrugs. “I like going down on you, I like how you fall apart.”

She lets her breath out and nods, then kisses him softly. “Did you like when I…?”

“Babe, it’s me, say the words,” he replies.

“Undressed for you?” she asks.

“What do you think?” he replies, putting his cigarette out.

Her smile widens and she murmurs, “Good.”

He brings her closer and kisses her. They stay in comfortable silence, breath synced, and then fall asleep together on top of the covers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their poor neighbor.


	27. December 31, 10:08 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cluster celebrates New Years in Mexico City. Kala and Wolfgang make honeymoon plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just assume that Noms and Neets put on soundproof headphones to ignore the New Years fireworks haha!

Kala and Wolfgang are startled awake by Dani’s voice. 

“Get up, everyone! It’s almost eleven! We have chilaquiles*! And coffee! And mojitos!”

Wolfgang blinks and wrinkles his nose in annoyance. Kala groans tiredly, but then Wolfgang turns over and smiles slightly at her, eyes ice blue in the bright Mexican sun; lately, Kala has noticed his eye color change depending on the light, and she is determined to see every variation. She smiles back.

“We should go,” he murmurs, nudging her nose with his own.

He runs a hand over her arm, her skin dewy and soft from the heat. She grins and rolls against him, kissing him, full of affection and enthusiasm.

“But I want to stay in bed with you,” she says.

He smiles again. “But breakfast, and mojitos, and that pool…”

She sighs and nods softly in response. He gets to his feet, searching for pants. Kala smiles more widely as she observes his daily morning ritual -- nude, sleepy, seemingly unaware where he left his clothes the night before. She gets up and patiently hands him his sweats, and he smiles somewhat sheepishly at her.

“Thanks, babe,” he says.

They arrived in Mexico City late last night to celebrate New Year’s with their Cluster at Lito’s mother’s house. Estella Rodriguez’s home is expansive, warm, and bright, with countless strings of star-shaped lights for the holidays. 

Kala and Wolfgang arrived later than anyone after an all-day flight. Lito insisted on paying for their plane tickets, explaining that his mother wanted to meet the locksmith and the scientist who helped him out of so many tricky situations, and they eventually agreed, excited to visit Mexico in person. Lito also paid for a ticket for Felix on Dani’s behalf, because she grew closer to him through their weekly, over-the-phone movie nights. She made Lito swear he wouldn’t reveal this.

Estella greeted everyone with enthusiasm and a bowl of  _ sopa azteca*  _ when they arrived late on the 30th. The Cluster -- missing Capheus, who had to attend an economic forum, and Will and Riley, who wanted to watch the fireworks along the Chicago River to commemorate Will’s dad -- shared long hugs and laughed together, overwhelmed by being reunited. Felix and Dani shared a quick, eager smile, but didn’t hug until after the group dispersed, avoiding the inevitable teasing. 

The Cluster spent the night catching up and congratulating Kala and Wolfgang on their engagement, and then Estella sent them to bed in luxurious guest rooms. Kala and Wolfgang, their room complete with skylights, fell asleep watching the stars and the occasional owl. 

Kala smirks fondly and puts on a turquoise robe. Wolfgang pulls on a tank top, and the two of them go into the hall. Dani, now knocking on Sun’s room, rolls her eyes at them.

“Why is everyone so sleepy?” she groans.

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows. “Eighteen-hour flight.”

“So?” sighs Dani, then steps back in surprise when Detective Mun walks out of the room, shirtless, hair slightly mussed.

Dani looks at him, open-mouthed. Wolfgang’s lips form a steady, wicked smirk and Kala looks at him in reproach, knowing if he teases Sun he’ll be returning to Berlin with some bruises. 

“We uh -- we’ll be down in a minute,” says Mun with a tell-tale, overconfident smile before shutting the door.

Dani looks at Kala and Wolfgang and gestures in amazement. Kala beams, and as they pass Sun’s room, Wolfgang shouts, “Having fun?”

“I will kill you, Wolfgang Bogdanow,” Sun responds, and he hurries past the door and towards the stairs.

“She  _ will _ kill you,” murmurs Kala.

“I know she will,” he replies.

Half an hour later, everyone is sitting around Estella’s spacious table, eating rich chilaquiles dripping with green chili. Those unaccustomed to spicy food spend the morning sipping mojitos and unconvincingly assuring Estella that the food is just how they like it. Kala pats Wolfgang’s shoulder after his eyes water from the chilies, though her sympathy only extends so far, and he catches her share a smug smile with Lito.

Despite some sleepiness, everyone is cheerful and excited -- Amanita and Nomi maintain constant physical contact and smile at each other, Lito and Hernando exchange stories exuberantly with Estella, Sun and Kwon-Ho hold hands under the table and occasionally glance at each other and break into a smile, and Felix, Dani, and Wolfgang argue about soccer while Kala listens, amused. 

“So, we are celebrating,” says Estella after everyone has eaten. She smiles warmly at Kala and Wolfgang. “And I’ve prepared a  _ Pastel de Almendra  _ for us all. It is a traditional wedding treat here.”

Kala glances at Wolfgang, touched, and he smiles at her. 

Estella holds up a finger so everyone waits, then gets up and retrieves a large sugar-dusted cake from the kitchen. She cuts it into slices and Dani helps her distribute it around the table, squealing quietly in excitement and exclaiming about the tradition of  _ Pastel de Almendra _ . Everyone eats a piece of the decadent cake, accompanied with strong black coffee, and then Estella suggests a hike through the scenic neighborhood, nestled in the mountainous forest southeast of the city. 

After sharing more coffee, the group disperses and returns upstairs to get dressed. Kala puts on soft jeans and striped crop-top. She’s just put on some sandals when she notices Wolfgang reaching for a black tee-shirt. 

“Wolfgang,” she murmurs playfully.

He freezes and glances at her. “Kala.”

She holds up a finger. “Stay put.”

She dashes next door to Lito and Hernando’s room, where she finds the two men halfheartedly fighting over a pair of flip-flops. 

“I am raiding your closet,” she informs them, stepping up to the wide wicker doors and throwing them open. She pulls her fingertips across the sea of colorful shirts and selects a light blue tank top, then goes for the door. “Thank you!”

“About time,” murmurs Hernando with a slight smile. “He’s so handsome, why does he dress like a Victorian in mourning?”

Lito snorts. “That’s just Wolfgang.”

Kala returns to her and Wolfgang’s room and proudly holds up the tank top. His eyes narrow and he crosses his arms.   
“No,” he says.

“Yes,” she replies, eyes bright and determined. 

She steps up to him and runs the silky pads of her fingers over his biceps. “You never show off.”

“I don’t like being looked at,” he retorts, adding more softly, “except by you.”

“But we’ll match,” she says with an impressively sincere pout, gesturing at the light blue stripes of her blouse. “And your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“This will look beautiful with your eyes,” she insists.

Wolfgang looks at her for a moment, knowing she’ll relent if he shows any sign of annoyance. He supposes a blue shirt is a tiny sacrifice to make his fiancee happy.

“Must love you a lot,” he says quietly, tossing the black shirt aside.

She grins widely and nods. “You do love me a lot.”

He shakes his head and the corner of his mouth twitches in a reluctant smile. He puts the shirt on and then she puts her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“I’m  _ short _ without heels,” she muses, tilting her face to kiss him more deeply.

He laughs quietly and hugs her closer. He feels her mouth quirk into a satisfied smile against his lips, so he thumbs affectionately over her spine. She’s just pressed needily against him when they’re interrupted by a deadly whisper.

“Having fun?”

It’s Sun, glaring mischievously at them through the door. Kwon-Ho stands next to her, slightly abashed. Wolfgang rolls his eyes and lets go of Kala, and the two of them walk with Sun and Kwon-Ho towards the stairs. Sun is wearing a Seoul Police tee-shirt that shrank in the wash.

“You will know no peace for teasing me,” says Sun, keeping her gaze straight ahead.

Wolfgang glances at her indignantly and says in German to avoid Mun’s notice, “You thought I  _ wasn’t  _ going to tease you for fucking Detective Mun?”

Sun grumbles low in her throat and murmurs, “We haven’t. I’m just getting used to him.”

Wolfgang wrinkles his nose. “You’re just sleeping next to each other?”

Sun nods, still not meeting his gaze. He looks at her for a minute, then grins and chuckles.

“Cute,” he says.

Sun groans loudly. “No.”

“You had a shitty little brother, so I’m your little brother now--”

Sun groans again and shoves him. Mun looks worriedly at Kala.

“What...what are they talking about?” he asks her.

“Oh, I wasn’t paying attention,” Kala says with a reassuring smile, then smacks Wolfgang’s side and flashes her eyes at him.

“There’s more where that came from,” Sun observes coolly and Kala laughs.

The two women step away to walk in front of the men, and Kwon-Ho looks at Wolfgang with a friendly smile.

“We picked some intense people, didn’t we?”

Wolfgang laughs lightly and nods.

Eventually, the whole group gathers in the sunny entrance of the home. Felix glances at Wolfgang with a frown.

“You look...nice,” he settles on.

Wolfgang glances down at himself, then looks at the hot pink bandana Felix is wearing as a headband, which suggests he isn’t an authority on style. He looks to Kala and gestures at himself.

“What did you do?” he asks.

Her soft brows come together in annoyance. “You look  _ fine _ . Don’t listen to Felix.”

Felix raises his eyebrows high and looks away. “I’m blinded by color.”

Wolfgang laughs. “Fuck off.”

“You must really love her,” says Felix with a chuckle. 

“It’s sweet,” Dani says fervently. “And not a bad view.”

Kala turns and looks at Dani as if sizing her up. Wolfgang squeezes her waist reassuringly and Dani holds her hands up.

“Just an observation,” she says in a slightly higher voice than normal.

Kala nods grumpily, taking Wolfgang’s hand as the group goes towards the door. Hernando and Dani pick up  _ balones de fútbol _  *from a basket near the door on their way out.

Estella, putting on a huge sun hat, guides the group outside into the tree-shaded drive. She’s petite but as strong as a horse, and she leads the way up a hill for a view of the city, jubilantly pointing out landmarks in Spanish. Felix, Amanita, and Kwon-Ho hang desperately on Dani’s translations and everyone pants as the incline steepens and the sun pools over the crest of the foothills.

Kala squeezes Wolfgang’s hand, squinting under her sunglasses, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s so wild here,” she murmurs, adding, “it’s strange how little time I’ve spent outside of a city.”

He nods. “Me too.”

She glances at a rustle in the bushes and frowns slightly. 

“ Señora Rodriguez?” Kala calls. “Are there wild animals here?”

“Yes, pumas!” she shouts back cheerfully. 

“What is a puma?” Kala asks Wolfgang.

He shakes his head, so she looks at Dani, who is speaking rapidly with Lito, Felix, and Hernando about  _ Iberian Dreams _ .

“Dani, what’s a puma?” Kala asks cautiously.

“Oh, a huge wild cat, they attack joggers, like, constantly,” she replies, immediately returning to her conversation.

“No they don’t,” says Hernando. “Though it  _ does _ happen on occasion.”

Kala frowns again, now amused, and nods. “In Mumbai, we have jaguars. And aggressive monkeys. And the occasional cobra.”

Hernando raises an eyebrow and steps over to join her and Wolfgang. “Aggressive monkeys?”

“Yes, they steal food from markets,” she explains. “And screech at you. When I was ten, one pulled my hair and I couldn’t escape until Daya pulled it off of me.”

Hernando’s nose wrinkles slightly in thought. “But why?”

“There are just so many of them,” says Kala. “They’ve adapted incredibly well to an urban environment, they’re quite tough. Did you know a rhesus macaque was one of the very first organisms to survive a suborbital space flight?”

Hernando’s eyes widen in interest. “No, tell me.”

Wolfgang smiles, squeezes Kala’s waist, and steps over to join Dani, Lito, and Felix.

“Is Hernando boring you?” Lito asks, grinning affectionately when his boyfriend directs a disgruntled glare at him.

Wolfgang shakes his head in response.

“We’re more interesting,” asserts Dani. “We have  _ Iberian Dreams _ news.”

“Wolfie doesn’t give a shit about most movies,” says Felix, tightening the pink bandana and wiping some sweat off his forehead.

“I give a shit about Lito’s movies,” says Wolfgang.

Lito flaps his hands dismissively and sighs. “I can’t talk about it anymore, I’m far too nervous.”

“Opening next week!” squeals Dani, latching arms with Lito as the group trudges up the Mexican hillside, dry leaves crunching under their feet. She rebalances the ball she’s carrying under her arm and huffs in effort. “This hill is too steep, I had too many mojitos this morning.”

“Don’t remind me,” grumbles Felix, adding, “ _ Fuck _ , it’s hot.”

“Aw,” simpers Dani. “Silly Germans. I’d like to see you beat  _ El Tri _ on our home turf.”

“The last time Mexico beat us was fucking 1985,” retorts Felix.

“Stop trash-talking, Felix,” says Wolfgang.

Felix rolls his eyes and nudges Dani. “Tell you what, let’s play later, settle it that way.” Then he grins and flexes his skinny bicep. “No one’s ever beat us.”

“We’re not no one,” says Dani, blinking in a seductive manner. “You should see Hernando.”

Lito nods. “My man can play.”

“Let’s bet,” says Felix. “Losers…have to go streaking at midnight.”

Lito hesitates but Dani has already shaken Felix’s hand, smiling in anticipation. Wolfgang shakes his head in amusement, then steps over to Kala and Hernando once more. Kala brightens and smiles widely at him as she takes his hand.

“Did you learn anything about  _ Iberian Dreams _ ?” she asks playfully.

He shakes his head.

“You’re coming to the premier, yes?” asks Hernando.

He shakes his head again. “We have to work.”

“But we’ll come to the Oscars,” says Kala confidently.

Hernando blushes and quietly laughs. “That is very kind.”

Kala smiles and rolls her eyes. “I sat in between Wolfgang and Felix on the plane, and Wolfgang fell asleep, so I was treated to four hours of _Iberian Dreams_ trivia and it is  apparently an Oscar favorite.”

Hernando chuckles. “Why does Felix know so much?”

“Trying to impress Dani,” replies Wolfgang.

Hernando pops an eyebrow and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I see.” He glances over at Lito, Dani, and Felix and smiles faintly. “Movies  _ are  _ the way to her heart. And ceviche.”

Wolfgang snorts at the idea of Felix cooking but Kala smiles.

“I want your recipe,” she tells Hernando.

Hernando grins. “Of course. I’ll write it out for you, but only if you tell me how to make naan that actually…” He trails off and gestures with his hands. “Pops, yes?”

“I understand,” says Kala. “I’ll show you.”

The group continues around a corner, sunlight now filtering through the broad leaves of towering jacaranda trees. 

“These trees are beautiful in the summer,” Hernando tells Kala and Wolfgang. “They have incredible lilac-colored blossoms. It is said that the jacaranda is the home of a moon goddess, who bestows wisdom on all who sit under the tree.”

Kala grins. “That’s lovely.”

“They are also said to bring good luck,” Hernando goes on, adding with a slight smirk, “Lito mentioned that you are getting married in June, yes? The trees are in full bloom then, and there’s a lovely villa not far from here…”

Kala flushes and looks excitedly at Wolfgang, who smiles. She squeezes his hand before looking at Hernando.

“That’s very sweet, but we want to be married in Paris,” she explains.

“Oh, yes, I know, I was thinking of your honeymoon,” says Hernando.

Before he can say more or they can respond, Amanita bounces over, tugging Nomi with her, and whispers, “Are we talking about the wedding?”

Hernando laughs. “Yes.”

“The wedding?” adds Dani, tripping over herself to join them.

Lately, the word “wedding” attracts the group like a plate of unattended french fries attracts seagulls. 

“Oh my God, have you thought about a dress yet?” Dani asks. “Everything will look good on you, you’re going to have such a hard time choosing, oh my  _ God _ , we should totally go to that fancy place in New York, you know, the one with the TV show!”

Lito and Felix step over as well and Lito snorts quietly.

“Kala, on television?” murmurs Sun as she slows her pace. “Can’t picture it.”

“I’m too shy,” agrees Kala with an amused smile.

Felix shakes his head with a sudden grin. “Wolfie, how the fuck are you going to survive all this? Decorations, picking a fucking cake,  _ tux fittings _ .”

“I’ll survive because it’s for Kala,” he says with an unconcerned shrug.

Felix makes a retching noise. “Too sweet. I have to wash all the sweet shit off of me every time I’m around you now.”

“You only say that because you’re single,” remarks Wolfgang.

Felix opens his mouth to reply, then stops and nods as if suddenly grasping his situation. Kala looks at Wolfgang with gentle reproach for teasing Felix, but she puts an arm around his waist and leans her head on his shoulder as they walk. The group is quiet, but after a moment, Nomi laughs and shakes her head.

“I can’t believe you did what Neets and I did,” she says in amusement.

“But as you’re both Sensies,” says Amanita, “our proposals are more impressive.”

“Yeah, how the fuck did you keep it from each other?” Felix pipes up.

“No idea,” admits Wolfgang.

Kala smiles. “I was beginning to suspect it, but I think I surprised him.”

“You did,” says Felix, reflecting on the night he and Wolfgang went out for drinks after the proposal. He remembers Wolfgang holding his head in his hands and repeatedly muttering  _ I can’t believe she asked me first. _

“It is rare the love you all have,” says Estella warmly, adjusting her sunhat. “I was skeptical of Hernando at first, of course, I am a mother after all. But no one could be more perfect for Lito, and you all seem to have found men and women you love just as deeply.” She lets out an unexpected laugh. “You all give this old woman hope!”

Lito grins and puts an arm around his mother. “You aren’t old,  mamá.”

Estella looks at her son with dark, disbelieving eyes. “Kind of you.”

A smile ripples through the group and after another moment, they reach the crest of the hill where there is a park, complete with a field, picnic tables, and a playground. Dani lets out a soft shriek and hoists the ball over her head.

“Perfect!” she yells. “Hey, Berner, I’ll be kind. You pick your team first.”

Hernando tosses the ball he’s carrying aside. Felix points at Wolfgang, then at Sun and Amanita. Dani selects Hernando, Lito, and Nomi. Kala looks worriedly at Wolfgang’s leg, then reminds herself it’s been more than six months since his injury and calms herself by sipping from her water bottle. She follows the noncombatants -- Kwon-Ho and Estella -- to the sidelines of the grassy expanse in the park. 

“You aren’t playing?” she asks Kwon-Ho in surprise.

He shakes his head. “I’m extremely clumsy.”

“You aren’t,” says Kala.

“I am,” he insists. “Last night I tripped over my own feet and Sun caught me.” He shakes his head. “Not exactly dashing.”

Kala grins and says softly, “She likes you very much.”

He grins back. “Thanks for the intel. But she’s not very subtle lately, so I know.”

Kala laughs and turns her attention to the players assembling on the field. Felix, Dani, Wolfgang, and Lito have all taken their shirts off in preparation for the heat of the game. Kala tongues over her bottom lip, gaze lingering on the V of muscles at the base of Wolfgang’s abdomen, and then she breathes in sharply, remembering she isn’t alone. Wolfgang catches her staring but doesn’t tease her, settling instead for a soft grin. He’ll have time to tease her later.

Kala steps forward to tip the ball, and Hernando quickly recovers it and kicks it to Dani. Kala frowns slightly, impressed, but her attention is again drawn to Wolfgang. She wonders if she should apologize to Mun for her reverie about her fiance’s abs, but doesn’t find the presence of mind to do so. She bites her bottom lip and holds her breath, eyes growing darker, a slow smirk overtaking her. Mun, luckily, is also effectively distracted by Sun.

The game proceeds politely for nearly thirty minutes, with Hernando and Wolfgang both scoring points. Then Felix scores, and Dani wrinkles her nose and lets out an annoyed battle cry. 

Hernando, Lito, Dani, and Nomi hold off the opposing team for another moment, and Dani finds a pocket to score, but Sun blocks her, so she gives the ball to Hernando. He kicks it ferociously towards the net. There’s a shudder-inducing sound of the ball connecting with someone, and then Wolfgang braces his hands on his knees, nose bleeding freely. Kala and Estella gasp and Mun groans. Kala rushes over, but Wolfgang waves her off. She turns her attention to Hernando, who grimaces.

“Risky block,” Dani explains while Hernando fervently, repeatedly apologizes.

Felix nods in agreement. “Stupid block.”

“Did it work?” asks Wolfgang, voice rough with pain. 

“Yeah, Wolfie, it worked,” Felix says wearily, stepping over to squeeze his shoulder. “How’s your nose?”

Wolfgang straightens up and looks at Kala, who frowns and touches her fingers gingerly to the side of his crimson-covered nose. 

“Is it broken?” she murmurs.

“Don’t think so,” he replies.

“I’m so sorry!” says Hernando. “I did not think you would jump in front of the ball.”

Wolfgang shakes his head to show it’s alright. Felix takes the bandana out of his hair and hands it to Kala, and then she guides Wolfgang off the field and sits with him on a bench. She dabs gently at the blood with the bandana and he closes one eye, squinting against the pain.

“Honey, haven’t you gotten hurt enough in your life?” she asks him.

He grins weakly. “Apparently not.”

Kala shakes her head, tipping her water bottle to dampen the bandana, and wipes his face clean. 

“Would you like some Ibuprofen?” she asks.

He shakes his head, then glances back at the game and makes to get up. Kala sighs and pulls him back down. She scrutinizes his face, then gently pats his cheek and kisses him.

“Are you okay?” she checks.

“I know how to take a hit, suße…”

She smiles. “I know. But I wish you didn’t have to.”

He looks again at the game as Lito scores. He shakes his head, hoping Felix, Sun, and Amanita have the ability to win, then glances at the second ball on the side of the field. He nudges Kala up, then steps up to the ball and kicks it to her. She jumps aside, unsure.

“C’mere babe, I’ll show you,” he says, stepping behind her and hugging her close. 

He bumps his foot against hers and she glances over her shoulder at him with a fierce grin. He kisses her behind her ear and his hands find hers.

“Side of your foot,” he says as she goes to kick the ball. 

She nods and gently shoves the ball with her foot. Then another grin overtakes her, suddenly electrified in the humid sunshine. She kicks the ball, and then he does, and they go slowly back and forth as they make their way across the field. Kala eventually leans her head against his chest, and after a few minutes, he pays more attention to the feeling of her slim fingers under his hands than he does to the ball, more attention to the warm floral scent of her hair and her gentle laughter when her feet don’t behave the way she wants them too. He holds her closer and squeezes her waist, briefly shutting his eyes and sinking into a world of sun rays and skin. Her voice and laughter momentarily drift on the wind and he exists with her like he used to, unsure yet sure of her reality. 

When he opens his eyes, he finds she’s turned and touched the tip of her nose to his, fingers tightening around his hands in concern.

“What are you thinking?” she asks quietly.

He shakes his head slightly, then kisses her hard. She puts her arms around his neck, fingers twitching unconsciously in pleasure as he deepens the kiss. She moans gently and finally lets her wrists cross, her body relaxed against his.

“Love you,” he mumbles as they break apart.

“I love you,” she agrees, smiling assuredly. 

They look at each other for another moment, unaware that the fútbol game has ceased, unaware that Nomi, Sun, and Lito are standing still with hands on their hearts as they watch, unaware that their Cluster looks to them as a symbol of resilience and hope. 

Then a leaf falls on Kala’s shoulder and startles her to reality. She laughs at herself, kisses Wolfgang quickly once more, and steps reluctantly away from him. They walk back to the bench, holding hands as they watch the rest of the game. Felix, Sun, and Amanita win, though only by one goal, and Dani shrugs, unconcerned by the prospect of midnight streaking. Estella shakes her head at her son, his boyfriend, and their best friend, but smiles despite herself. She waves the group on, through the park and towards the road once more.

***

By nighttime everyone but Estella has gathered around an outdoor fireplace, having all taken a swim in the pool nearby. Kala huddles closest to the fire, shivering slightly in her swimsuit and thin tee-shirt.

They are surrounded by Christmas gifts that they saved to open together on New Years. Kala has grown accustomed to the idea of celebrating Christmas, though she found the process of buying gifts aggravating. Wolfgang, unmaterialistic and difficult to read despite being her fiance, was impossible to buy for. She called Daya for assistance but found no help, and eventually made Wolfgang an elaborate dinner and snuggled with him while  _ Conan _ played in the background, her best substitute for a physical gift. 

The group huddles closer to the fire as the breeze intensifies, opening gifts clockwise. Riley, Will, and Capheus visit them during this and all bask in the warm, fragrant night. After several bottles of champagne, only two people remain who haven’t opened anything -- Kala and Wolfgang. Kala glances around at the pile of gifts and smiles cautiously.

“You all didn’t have to…”

Amanita groans. “We wanted to! Buying for you was  _ so _ fun by the way, you like colors and shapes and cute shit.”

“Wolfgang not so much,” laughs Nomi. “So we mostly got things for you.”

“But we think he’ll like them,” Amanita teases.

Kala smiles and selects a small red package from the top. It’s from Lito and Hernando and weighs almost nothing. She unwraps it and pulls out two delicate chandelier earrings, crafted from turquoise sea glass. She lets out a soft breath and smiles at them.

“These are gorgeous!”

Lito smiles proudly. “My grandmother makes them in Sayulita, we visited her for Christmas and we thought of you.”

“You like the ocean, yes? And that color?” checks Hernando.

Kala beams and nods, then puts the earrings on an turns to Wolfgang. “Good?”

He smiles and kisses the side of her mouth. She grins once more at Lito and Hernando, and then Lito gestures at a flat box wrapped in gold.

“This was...a risk,” admits Hernando. 

Lito nods in agreement. “We went shopping with Kit and his costume designer last month, and I…”

“Made the mistake of showing Kit a picture of his Cluster,” fills in Hernando and Lito laughs, slightly abashed. 

“Where did you get a picture?” asks Wolfgang.

“I took one,” chirps Dani. “When we visited you in Berlin. When we were sitting under that tree drinking together.”

“So, naturally,” Hernando continues, handing the box to Wolfgang, “Kit was…” He glances at Lito. “Excited?”

Lito sighs. “Kit told me he wanted the opportunity to dress...what were his words? All the gorgeous men I’m friends with?”

“He’s pushy and disgusting,” Dani says brightly. “Iberian Dreams  _ is _ a fucking dream and so is Blake but we’ll all be glad to be free of Mr. Golden Dildo.”

Sun frowns slightly. “Do we want to know?”

“No!” says Dani, sipping her champagne. Then she nudges Wolfgang. “Ay, open it! He might be a freak but his costume designer has  _ amazing  _ taste.”

Wolfgang warily opens the box and narrows his eyes at a tailored black wool coat.

“See?” says Lito, scooting forward, “We didn’t go crazy. It’s perfect.” He turns to Kala. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

She pulls the coat out and slowly smiles. “Oh, it’s beautiful. Wolfgang, it’s beautiful and very expensive and it’s black so don’t complain.”

He chuckles and takes it out of her hands.

“And you know I would never try to change you,” Kala goes on, voice now amused, “but I dress up for you sometimes. You could at least return the favor.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly, several responses on his mind, none of them appropriate to be said in front of the others.

“Put it on at least,” she laughs, nudging him to get up.

He listens to her, and due to the several glasses of champagne, laughs at himself and turns around to give them all a 360° view. Everyone  _ oohs _ and  _ ahhs _ and laughs, and Kala eventually pulls him back to his seat, giggles, and kisses him. The others  _ aww _ collectively to be obnoxious, and then Wolfgang puts the coat aside and thanks Lito and Hernando.

“Our turn,” says Nomi, handing over a large bag with all the gifts inside. 

Kala reaches inside to find several colorful sundresses, all handmaid and found at the San Francisco Farmer’s Market, and she squeals excitedly and dashes inside to put one on. When she returns, they unwrap a picnic backpack “because Paris has amazing parks and picnics are romantic as hell,” remarks Amanita, and a double sleeping bag “because you have to go camping with us at the Russian River this summer, no excuses,” says Nomi. Finally, Kala pulls out a deck of cards. It’s a game of “couple’s truth or dare.”

“Oh no,” she murmurs, reading the label on the box while the others desperately try not to laugh.

“What is that, truth or dare?” asks Wolfgang.

“It’s a game, stupid,” says Felix. “You say truth or dare, and the other person picks, and if they say dare, you dare them to do something dumb or embarrassing or dangerous, and if they say truth, you force some humiliating story out of them.”

“But this has a twist,” says Amanita with a grin. “In  _ this _ version, all the truths and dares a little sexy.”

“They can actually be pretty kinky, Neets,” Nomi says.

Kala’s eyes widen, and then she opens the box and looks at the first card. Her cheeks instantly darken and after a moment she laughs and covers her face. She shows the card to Wolfgang. 

_ Dare: Try a new location! Pick between: Kitchen table, countertop, backseat, or your desk at work. _

Wolfgang snorts and then says, barely disguising the delight in his voice, “Fuck. We’re doing all of that, forget picking between.”

Kala looks at him with wide, scandalized eyes. Nomi and Amanita grin and nudge each other and the rest of the group laughs and whispers jokes to each other.

“At work,” murmurs Kala in disbelief. “Can you imagine?”

Wolfgang, who’s currently imagining that, doesn’t respond and quickly thanks Nomi and Amanita before Kala can suspect what’s on his mind. 

They move onto Dani’s gifts - a candle and a jar of…

“Body chocolate?” sighs Kala. “Dani!”

“It goes with sexy truth or dare,” she replies with an unfazed shrug, adding, “smell the candle. Did you see what it’s called? This company is amazing, they make candles that smell like different places so if you’re ever homesick, you can light the candle, and I heard you’ve been missing Mumbai and your parents, so…”

Kala’s expression softens and she smiles. “Well, I suppose I can’t be annoyed with you considering this…” She pries the lid off the candle and smells it. Then she sniffles in surprise and says, “Oh. Oh my God, this does smell like home, how is that possible?”

Dani shrugs again and smiles warmly. “I got one for myself a while ago, not for my home, but for San Diego. Smells just like the beach there.”

Kala chuckles and sets the candle aside. “Thank you, this is sweet.”

They move onto Sun and Mun’s gift for them, which comes in a simple envelope. 

“Now this may seem extravagant,” says Sun. “But remember, the government had to pay for wrongfully imprisoning me, so consider this courtesy of South Korea.”

Kala smiles at this and opens the envelope. Inside are two tickets to Jeju Island. Kala’s eyebrows jump in surprise.

“We know you both work, so those are good any time you want to go,” adds Mun.

“It’s beautiful there,” says Sun. “There are ocean hot springs you can sit in, and caves and lakes.”

“And ancient statues if that’s your thing,” says Mun.

“And actually,” chimes in Nomi, “we were all in on this...we wanted to see how you’d react to a trip...because if you’re up for it, we all wanted to give you a trip so you could see where we’re all from, you could do a...global honeymoon. And end in Paris, like you were planning.”

The rest of the Cluster, including Will, Riley and Capheus, all nod.

“Just think about it!” Riley jumps in before they can answer. “Imagine, you could go to Skaftafell, then Chicago, then Napa, then…”

“Baha,” chimes in Lito. “Then Jeju…”

“And Mombasu!” adds Capheus. 

“I’m chipping in too,” says Felix. “I’m your wildcard, pick wherever the fuck you want to go.”

Kala looks at Wolfgang with a gentle smile. “We  _ were _ planning to take a month off. A month is quite a long time in Paris.”

He nods slowly, also smiling. “Okay.” He glances at the others. “We couldn’t pay you back--”

There’s a chorus of  _ ughs _ and he stops talking. Kala starts to grin and she nudges him.

“It would be amazing to see so many places,” she says.

He nods again and smiles. She kisses him quickly, then turns to the others, beaming. 

“This is extremely sweet, thank you,” she says softly. 

They all nod and smile in return, and then Hernando raises his glass of champagne. “It is nearly midnight, I suggest some music? And more bubbly?”

Everyone agrees. Lito and Dani get up to select a playlist, and the rest gather up their gifts to take them inside to their rooms. Once upstairs, Kala lets her hair out of the neat bun she’s had it in all day to keep cool. Wolfgang pulls the covers down on the bed and sets an alarm on his phone, then tosses it aside. Kala glances at the clock on the wall and sees midnight is only ten minutes away and the reality of a new year, her first as a Sensate without BPO, momentarily stops her breath. She stands in one place, eyes on the clock. Her mind torn between excitement and the persistent fear that something will go wrong, simply because they don’t expect it to. 

“Kala?” Wolfgang says gently from where he’s sitting on the bed.

“Everything is so fragile,” she whispers, surprised by her own honesty. “What if we survived BPO only to…” She hugs herself, suddenly cold. “Life is dangerous enough without BPO. You know that better than any of us.”

He shrugs. “No way to prevent accidents. But we’re safer than we used to be, babe.”

“Accidents...terrify me, lately,” she admits quietly. She shakes her head at herself. “I’m sorry, every time something good happens to me I see all the ways it might fall apart.”

“C’mere,” he says and she walks slowly up to the bed, eyelids heavy with worry, dark irises wide with fear. 

She holds out a hand, tentative, unsure if his touch will make her spontaneously cry. She wonders briefly if she should have had as much champagne as she did, knowing how delicate it makes her feel. 

“Nothing is going to fall apart with us,” he says, looking up at her and pulling her closer by her waist. “And if something happens to either of us…”

Her fingers tighten on his shoulders and her stomach grows sick and hot at the idea.

“...then at least we’ll have been together, at least we’ll know that...we were the best part of each other’s lives.”

Kala softens, tears spilling over her bottom lashes, throat aching. She nods, then sniffles and nods harder, falling into a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs after a moment as he rubs her back.

He shakes his head. “I think about this too.”

“Do you?” she asks quietly.

He nods. “A lot.” 

She pulls back and smiles weakly, then traces the features of his face with her fingers and her smile grows more steady. She shakes her head slightly at the futility of her next words.

“Don’t we deserve a lifetime together?” she asks.

He smiles. “Yeah. But the world doesn’t give a shit about what anyone deserves.”

“Maybe the world will surprise us,” she says quietly, glancing down, smiling again. Then she breaks into a tearful laugh and goes on, “We’re getting married this year. If you told me that last New Years...when I was…” She laughs some more, crying harder. “...when I was standing on the balcony of that  _ stupid  _ sky palace and thinking about you and pretending you were there with me...well, I would have been very surprised.”

Wolfgang spent most of last New Years in the key shop, Felix slumped on the couch with a concussion, drinking coffee and vodka to stay awake and make sure his brother didn’t slip into a coma. He nods softly. 

“Me too, suße,” he mutters.

She sniffles and presses closer, then her lips tremble and she shakes her head. “Your life  _ has  _ been my life’s best part.”

He swallows and nods. “Yours has been mine.”

She takes a long, steadying breath, then rests her forehead gently on his. They stay like this for a while, thumbing over each other’s hands, listening to the steady breeze and the crackle of the fire on the patio below their room. Then a blossom of crimson and purple light silhouettes their figures, a firework exploding in the sky above Mexico city with a thunderous crack.

Kala gasps gently, turning to look out of the window, and Wolfgang follows her gaze. They hold still as explosions of every color burst in the clear ultramarine sky. Then Kala smiles.

“Happy New Year,” she whispers.

He grins. “Happy New Year.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "global honeymoon" is going to be a blast to write. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Chilaquiles = a Mexican breakfast dish with tortillas, chili sauce, beans, and eggs.  
> Sopa azteca = tortilla soup  
> Balones de fútbol = fútbol balls   
> El Tri = Mexico's fútbol team (for the three colors on the flag)
> 
> P.S. for any of you wondering if I'll ever update Unspoken Chemistry, I will. I'm very slow with that fic at the moment because, like a fool, I started this fic and Two Plus One. But it will happen.


	28. January 18, 9:06 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala has bad timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written 27 chapters and I still haven't written about a fight, so this was overdue. *rubs evil hands together*

Kala sighs in relief as the warmth of the apartment floods over her. She closed her eyes momentarily on the train, too tired to keep them open, and missed her stop. This forced her to walk several blocks in the snow to reach home.

“Wolfgang?” she calls into the apartment.

“In here,” he says from the kitchen.

She yawns, taking her heels off and tossing them to the side of the hallway, and goes into the kitchen where she finds Wolfgang at the table, sipping a beer and scowling about paperwork.

“What’s that?” she asks, taking off her earrings and setting them near the toaster.

“From work,” he responds, not looking up.

“Okay,” she says cautiously, resisting the urge to add, _I had a long day too, you know._

He takes a drink of beer and writes something, then glances at her, remembering himself. He shakes his head slightly and holds out his hand.

“Sorry, c’mere,” he says quietly.

She smiles and takes his hand and he pulls her closer. She leans down to kiss him hello, her snow-damp hair falling around his face. He squints.

“What happened?”

“I missed my stop,” she explains, sitting on his lap and putting her arms around his neck. “How was your day?”

He shakes his head in response and kisses her heatedly. She breathes in, surprised, then squeezes his shoulders and pulls back.

“Oh, I’m _so_ tired,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

He breathes out and rests his face against her collarbone. Then he nudges her. “Okay. I should finish this.”

She gets up and takes the chair next to him, glancing over the paperwork.

“Can I help?” she offers.

“I thought you were tired,” he replies.

She blinks, hurt, and gets up. “I am. I’m going to bed.”

He catches her hand as she walks away, “Sorry.”

She pulls her hand away without responding and walks into their bedroom. He huffs, disgruntled, and sits back in his chair. He rubs his eyes, then reaches for his beer and takes a swig. Then he sets it aside and gets up, following her. He cracks the door open and looks in at her. She’s in the middle of lighting a candle.

“Kala, sorry,” he repeats, more warmly. “I’m exhausted too.”

She nods and smiles weakly. “It’s fine, just let me go to bed.”

He nods too, then glances over his shoulder into the kitchen. He shuts his eyes briefly and shakes his head. “I’ll get up early.”

She looks up and smiles more widely, then twitches her fingers at him to come closer. When he reaches her, she puts her arms around him and kisses him softly. Then she bumps her nose playfully against his.

“This weekend...we should sleep in until noon...and then go to that bookstore we’ve been wanting to go to...and then dinner...and we’ll come home early…”

He smiles and nods. “Yeah.”

“Good,” she replies.

Then her phone rings on the bed and she throws her head back with a dramatic _ugh!_

“Who’s that?” asks Wolfgang.

“My mother,” says Kala bitterly, too tired to remember that the subject of her mother and why she’s been avoiding her calls is touchy. “She’s called thirteen times this week. Thirteen.”

“And you haven’t picked up because…?”

Kala’s eyes widen slightly, caught, and she says, “Because...she’s probably calling to complain about Daya because Daya and her husband have been fighting.”

Wolfgang’s brows twitch.

Kala sighs. “I haven’t picked up because I haven’t told them we’re getting married and I don’t know how.”

“When are you going to tell them?” he asks.

“I don’t know!” admits Kala. “Not yet.” She sighs again and lets go of Wolfgang, rubbing her face. “I’m too tired to talk about this.”

“You have to tell them at some point,” he says quietly.

“I know!” she snaps. She sighs again and repeats, more calmly, “I know. But my mother has barely accepted I’m living with you and I want to give her time.”

He shakes his head, confused. “I thought she’d like this better.”

“No, no,” says Kala, frustrated. “We’re living together and we can’t take that back. Getting married now doesn’t erase everything we’ve done wrong.”

Wolfgang pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping away to pull out a pair of boxers. “Kala, I know she’s your mother, but we don’t have to respect her beliefs about this, they’re…”

“What?” asks Kala hotly.

He opens his arms and looks at her like this is self-explanatory. “Obsolete?” he suggests. “Completely insane?”

“She’s very traditional, Wolfgang! She can’t help it if she doesn’t agree with this.”

“Yes she can, beliefs can change,” he replies, throwing the boxers onto the bed and taking his shirt off.

“Yes, but she shouldn’t feel pressured to change her beliefs,” says Kala. “They aren’t hurting anyone.”

He pauses, about to sit on the bed to take off his boots. “They’re not hurting anyone? Kala, their beliefs are what influenced you to marry someone you didn’t love, which hurt you, and me, and them.”

She shakes her head. “Those were my beliefs that did that.”

“Which you changed.”

“I’m younger than her, and biased, I needed my beliefs to change in order to…” She gestures at him. “Be with you.”

“That’s the only reason you changed your beliefs?” he asks.

She sighs and runs her hand through her hair, shutting her eyes. “No,” she says through gritted teeth. “I did because...because I didn’t agree with them, but my mother...Wolfgang, my parents have an arranged marriage, my mother grew up in a tiny, rural village, her mother was extremely strict and had no sense of humor--”

She stops talking when she notices his eyes darken.

“Do you think I’m the best person to say that to? That her upbringing meant she couldn’t be different from her parents?”

“That isn’t fair,” Kala says quietly, looking away.

“Yes it is, it’s exactly the point,” he retorts.

“We’re not going to get her to change her mind,” murmurs Kala.

“Right, so why do you care? Get it over with.”

“I didn’t want this to be something to...to get over with!” she shouts, tears springing in her eyes. “I want her to be excited and happy for us, don’t you understand that?”

“Of course I understand that, but if she’s not going to be, then you owe this to me, to yourself.”

“Why can’t I take my time?” she demands, running her hand under her nose.

“We waited to be together for years, we almost died, I spent weeks in that prison only thinking about you, and you can’t call your mother to tell her we’re getting married?”

“But we’re together now, we’re safe,” says Kala, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “We should wait for the right time.”

“There isn’t going to be one,” he says.

“That isn’t true,” she says, circling her arms around his neck. “In a few months she wouldn’t be so surprised--”

“We’re getting married in June. That is a few months.”

Kala sniffles. “I know, but she’s going to tell everyone, all of my friends at the pharmaceutical company, and Rajan, and his parents are going to say that I’m disgusting and he should be grateful I left--”

“Fuck,” murmurs Wolfgang, pushing her away and going towards the kitchen.

Kala stares after him, taken aback. “Wh-why are you walking away?”

He turns around in the doorway. “Because you still care what they all think! This is what you always do. You care more about what’s proper, about what people you don’t even respect have to say about you, than you do about how I feel--”

“That isn’t true!”

“What would you call it?” he yells. “You knew how you felt about me from the moment we met and you couldn’t find the courage to do what you needed to do until it was almost too late!”

Kala hugs herself, looking down, and says very quietly, “It was as much courage as I had.”

“Then you didn’t have very much.”

She swallows a sob and wipes her eyes, then murmurs, “Please leave.”

“What?”

“Leave,” she says dully.

“Kala--”

“You told me we shouldn’t be together!” she shouts. “It was _not_ just me!”

“I was trying to protect you--”

“No, you weren’t! You were scared because you had never felt that way and you were terrified that you would do something wrong! You were protecting yourself from getting hurt! What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to abandon everyone I loved for someone who told me I couldn’t even be with him?”

“I don’t care about that. I care about this, us, now. We’re getting married and you still can’t tell anyone to fuck off.”

“They’re my family. She’s my mother.”

“No, it’s your family, and Rajan, and the company, and everyone else in Mumbai. You don’t even live there anymore.”

“I can’t stand it, I can’t stand thinking about what they’ll all say behind my back--”

“You care more about people you barely know, who you never see, than you do about this--”

“I don’t care about anything more than I care about this!”

“Then show it!”

She wipes her face and says in a shaky voice, “I show it _every_ day and you know that.”

“Kala, I love you, you are the best thing in my life, but there’s a difference between how you treat me when we’re alone and what you say to your family. I need both.”

“I don’t know if I can give you that, Wolfgang.”

He nods. “Right.” He picks up his shirt off the chair nearby and puts it back on, then takes his jacket off the back of the door. “I’ll be back in a while.”

“Where -- where are you going?”

“You told me to leave,” he says coldly, walking out of their room.

The front door shuts a moment later and Kala jumps at the sound.

***

Felix groans feebly when he notices his friend through the glass of the door.

“For fuck’s sake,” he murmurs, walking down the stairs and yawning.

“What now?” asks Dani over the phone, the sound of crunching popcorn and a movie in the background.

“It’s Wolfie, hold on,” he says.

“Did you pause? I didn’t pause,” she says, a tray of snacks and wine jostling on the other end. “Freaking over-the-phone movie night…”

Felix walks up to the door and opens it. “What’s going on? It’s late.”

Wolfgang sighs heavily. “Just...want to have a drink with you.”

Felix rolls his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, directing into the phone, “Can I call you back?”

“Is Wolfgang secretly high-maintenance or something?” asks Dani. “I thought you said he was a loner.”

Felix laughs. “Yeah, he’s a fucking primadonna.”

“Who are you talking to?” Wolfgang asks, annoyed.

“Dani,” says Felix, adding to her, “I’ll call back, okay?”

“Tomorrow, Felix,” she says warmly and the line dies.

Felix opens the door wider to let Wolfgang in. “This better be important.”

“You’re not dating her, don’t act like I interrupted something.”

“Great, you’re in a good mood. Vodka or beer?” He pauses and looks his friend over, then decides, “vodka, “and adds, “so what was the fight about?”

Wolfgang breathes out and shakes his head. He takes his snowy jacket off and hangs it by the door, then follows Felix into the kitchen in the back of the store. Felix takes a bottle of vodka out of the cupboard and pours some into two glasses.

“She hasn’t told her family we’re getting married,” says Wolfgang after downing the clear liquor. “She’s still worried about what Rajan thinks. The fuck is wrong with her?”

“I don’t know, Wolfie, a lot of women are like that, they try to keep the peace.”

“It’s not a lot of women, it’s Kala,” he retorts, holding out his glass again. “We knew how we felt about each other and she married him anyway.”

“She was probably scared out of her mind of you,” says Felix, adding, “Not that you’re not a fucking catch. You’re just...a scary catch. Deadliest catch! Like the show! Yes!”

Wolfgang squints. Felix gestures at the vodka.

“I have had a lot, okay? We were watching Jurassic Park and drinking every time a live person got eaten.”

Wolfgang drinks more vodka and murmurs to himself, “Why did I bother?” Then he adds, “What’s going on with that?”

“With what?” asks Felix.

“With Dani,” says Wolfgang.

“You came here to talk about your problems,” says Felix, shaking his head hard and topping up Wolfgang’s glass.

“I don’t want to talk about that, tell me about Dani.”

Felix hesitates, then shrugs and mumbles, “She lives in Mexico City.”

“That’s it?” asks Wolfgang when Felix doesn’t continue.”

“Yeah, it is,” says Felix defeatedly.

“She calls you every week,” Wolfgang points out.

“Are you the best person to be giving me relationship advice considering you just bailed on an argument to drink with me?”

Wolfgang pauses, then shrugs in concession and asks for more vodka. He sips some, then glances at Felix and says, “Sometimes I don’t understand her at all.”

“That’s fucking _normal_ , Wolfie,” says Felix with a groan.

“But we’re in each other’s heads and I still don’t understand her,” he replies quietly.

“Because you’d never do what she does,” says Felix. “You know, with her family. You wouldn’t put up with the traditional bullshit.”

“She’s not…” He breathes out and shakes his head. “She’s not wrong how hard it is to...figure out your own beliefs after being conditioned like that.”

“Bullshit, look how you were raised,” says Felix.

“She’s not me, maybe it’s her nature to care more.”

Felix shakes his head, refilling glasses and swaying slightly, taking the counter for support. “I don’t know everything that happened between you two but I know you waited fucking forever for each other and if she can’t tell her family to get fucked I don’t know what to say.”

“I think it’s her mom, she doesn’t care what her aunt thinks and her dad is fine,” says Wolfgang.

“The fuck is she worried about? Don’t they know about you?”

“Yeah, they do,” Wolfgang murmurs in response. He looks down and shakes his head, swirling his vodka in his glass. “It’s harder for women.”

Felix raises his eyebrows.

“It is,” mumbles Wolfgang, “Virginity and marriage is this whole...fuck, I don’t know Felix, I don’t get it. I just know they get punished and we don’t.”

Felix nods. “Yeah, that is fucked up.” He takes a swig of vodka from the bottle. “That’s what she’s worried about?”

“I don’t know,” says Wolfgang, adding immediately, “She’s worried about what everyone will think.”

“That’s not flattering,” says Felix, one side of his mouth descending in a dramatic frown.

“What do you mean?” asks Wolfgang.

“She’s worried about what they’ll think of you,” he explains. “Bet she didn’t feel that way about Ra--Ru Paul? What’s his name?”

“How drunk are you?” replies Wolfgang.

“Rajan!” shouts Felix triumphantly. “Ru Paul’s a drag queen. Right. Drag queen.”

“Fuck,” murmurs Wolfgang, finishing his drink.

“I give good drunk advice,” Felix says defensively.

Wolfgang starts to laugh, shaking his head. “She’s not worried about that.”

“Then what’s she worried about?” asks Felix.

“What they’ll think of her,” says Wolfgang.

Felix grunts deeply in thought. “Oh. Shit. Okay.”

Wolfgang shakes his head, finishing his drink and pouring one more. He glances out of the window at the accumulating snow, the lonely tire tracks on the cobble, the flickering street lights, a sign that the electrical grid is under strain. He pictures Kala alone at home and feels a twinge of guilt for leaving her, then remembers her words from earlier and drinks.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he mumbles.

But Felix leans forward. “Whoa, shit, you’re actually upset.”

Wolfgang nods, looking down.

Felix starts to smile. “Nah, not upset. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck off.”

“Listen, girls are mean as fuck, Wolfie, I get it.”

Wolfgang shakes his head, then bites out, “If she cared about this as much as she cares about her family--”

“It’s not that, she knows you don’t give a shit that she isn’t a perfect daughter or whatever the fuck they’re worried about. She’s one of those people that...puts out the closest fires, even if they’re smaller, you know?”

Wolfgang nods cautiously. Then the lights flicker and fade, the power failing. He looks up and sets his glass aside.

“I should see if she’s okay,” he says quietly. He pats Felix’s arm. “Thanks.”

“Uh, don’t know if I helped,” says Felix with a frown.

“Drink some water, take something for your head,” says Wolfgang as he leaves.

“Will do!” shouts Felix after him.

When Wolfgang gets home, he finds Kala sitting on the couch in the dark, eyes closed, wrapped in a blanket. She doesn’t look up at his arrival, so he quietly walks up to the couch and sits next to her. She glances at him with swollen eyes, then lets out a quiet sob, puts her arms around him, buries her face in his chest, and cries loudly. He breathes out, guilt bubbling in his stomach, and wraps his arms tightly around her. Her shoulders shake as she cries so he rubs her back.

“Kala--”

She shakes her head against his chest so he stops speaking. He clenches his jaw, leaning his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. He’s never seen her cry like this, though based on what Nomi and Will relayed, she spent the first day after he was taken by BPO sobbing while Riley tried to console her. This does nothing to subdue the guilt he feels for making her cry like that now. The fact that he left her here to cry alone strikes him as unfair, though he’s still irritated with her.

“Hey, süße…”

She shakes her head again and murmurs, “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at her, surprised she’s crying because she’s sorry, not because she feels hurt.

She glances up, finding both of his hands, and looks at him with wet cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats in a thick, shaky voice. “It’s _completely_ insensitive of me to worry about what anyone thinks when this is what matters.” She shakes her head slightly and tears gather on her bottom lashes. “I’m so sorry, I’m so stupid, I don’t deserve you--”

“Stop,” he says firmly.

She sobs faintly and shakes her head, “No, I don’t, I don’t, I wasted so much time and I’m still wasting time, I can’t believe how stupid I am.”

“You’re not stupid,” he says, adding, “Sorry I said you didn’t have enough courage.”

“Don’t be,” she says with a sniffle. “You’re right, I was afraid, I should have argued with you when you said we couldn’t be together.”

“I shouldn’t have said that in the first place,” he replies.

“You were just trying to protect me. And you were feeling vulnerable, and Felix had just gotten hurt, and…”

“I was scared,” he says. “I was scared like you said.”

She shakes her head and starts to cry again, then begins to cough because she’s been crying so long. _This is why I don’t do girlfriends_ , he says in his mind before reminding himself that this is Kala, that he’s marrying this woman. He breathes out heavily, then kisses the side of her head and gets to his feet. He goes into the kitchen -- she stares after him, holding her breath -- and a moment later brings back a mug of tea and hands it to her.

She looks at it for a long time before bursting into fresh tears.

“Kala, drink that, stop crying. Why are you crying?”

She glances up at him, momentarily startled into stillness. “I...I’m crying because I...I don’t always appreciate you, I don’t always think about how difficult things have been for you.” She wipes her eyes and goes on, “Sometimes I feel I was so careless with you when we were falling in love, I told you I cared about you but at the same time I told you I couldn’t be with you and I should have known better because no one had ever...said what I said to you, how I understood and how I felt so close to you. I shouldn’t have said those things until I was sure I could be with you, and now I am with you and still I act as if I’m not...and I take my family for granted…” She sniffles. “I should be grateful I have a family to explain this to, as hard as it is.” She takes a long, slow sip of tea and cradles her knees against her chest. She looks unsurely at him. “I wish I wasn’t so preoccupied with how wrong this feels to me sometimes. There’s this little voice in my mind that still tells me how ashamed I should be for what I’ve done.”

He watches her for a moment and says gently, “Leaving him wasn’t wrong, babe. Getting married again isn’t, either.”

She nods. “I know. I do know. But sometimes knowing doesn’t matter, that voice doesn’t care what I know.” She shrugs and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “I know in my heart that Lito and Nomi are good people and I disagree with every belief I used to have on that subject, and I know that you’re a good person, and sometimes it is all so clear.” She shakes her head and takes another gulp of tea. “When Lito was fired, when he went home and his apartment had been vandalized, and when Rajan admitted he talked to my mother...in that moment, I felt sure that what I used to believe was wrong. And I feel sure now but…” She looks nervously at him. “Please be patient. It isn’t always simple for me.”

He nods and wipes his thumb under each of her eyes. “It’s okay. Didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s my own fault,” she says, tears sparkling on her lashes again.

“Kala,” he says, almost groaning at the sight of new tears.

“I can’t help it,” she says in a high voice as the tears spill over. “It’s not just this, I’m so exhausted, I miss my family, I’ve been so emotional lately. I nearly cried at lunch today because Daya sent me an article about dogs reuniting with their owners...”

“You’ve been getting three hours of sleep a night, süße…”

She nods. “I know.” She shakes her head softly. “I’m so stupid. I’m trying to get promoted at a job I won’t even have after we move…” She takes a breath and looks at him. “Can we stay home tomorrow? And sleep in?”

He nods.

“Can we go to bed?”

He nods again and squeezes her hands, then pulls her to her feet. They traipse tiredly to their room together and Kala gets in bed, blinking blearily while she waits for Wolfgang to get undressed. He gets in bed next to her and she glances at him with a tiny, inquisitive smile, wondering if she’s allowed to sleep close to him.

The corner of his mouth twitches and he relents, pulling her close.

She smiles widely and asks, “Will you call them with me tomorrow?”

He nods. She smiles and kisses him.

He grins softly. “It’s too easy to forgive you when you do that.”

She pulls away, grinning too, and mumbles, “But I want to kiss you…”

He mumbles in amusement and kisses her again. She moans lightly in approval, then sniffles and nudges her nose against his. They fall asleep like this almost immediately, both exhausted.


	29. January 19, 10:11 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala calls her parents, she and Wolfgang make plans, and Priya has a change of heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't include a scene about what they were doing just before this chapter begins *wink wink* ...you'll all just have to imagine.

Kala lets a long, slow breath out of her lungs, eyelids flickering, mouth slightly open in a daze. She puts her arms loosely around Wolfgang’s shoulders, fingertips on his temple, and lets her legs fall open around him as he rests his head on her chest. They both take needy breaths, out of air as they come down.

He presses a kiss on her sternum after a moment, then moves along her neck with smaller kisses, ending with a brush of his lips under her ear.

She grins and turns her head, touching her nose to his cheek, and they look at each other for a moment, still delirious. Then he turns over, pulling her with him. She blushes and cracks another, smaller grin, and he breathes in deeply and shuts his eyes for a moment.

He drags a lazy hand over one of her breasts and kisses her neck, her pulse hard against his lips.

“Fuck, you feel good…” he mumbles.

She smiles. “So do you.”

He kisses her between her breasts, then under each of them. She grins indulgently.

“Wolfgang…” she mumbles.

He glances up.

“I love you,” she goes on quietly.

His expression softens and he lifts up to kiss her gently. “I love you too.”

She smiles after a few quiet minutes and combs her fingers through his hair. “We should fight more often…”

He laughs and squeezes her sides. “We could have sex without fighting.”

“True,” she says with a slight frown and arched brows. Then she tilts her head. “But this was very satisfying. Maybe it’s because I used up all my prolactin from crying so much. Did you know tears release prolactin? It's fascinating. And without prolactin, dopamine is more active, and dopamine mediates pleasure in the brain..."

He glances at her, intending to ask how he’s in love with someone who reflects on sex in such an analytical way, but ends up laughing at her inquisitive expression and shaking his head.

“What?” she asks.

“You should see your face,” he replies.

“Describe it,” she says cheekily.  
  
He raises his eyebrows, starting to grin, and thumbs over her lips. “A second ago you had that...smiling, stupid-happy look…which I love,” he says quietly, dragging his thumb over her chin. “And now you have the chemist look. You have the...” He pauses to swipe his index finger up the bridge of her nose. “The tiny wrinkle.”

She nods. “I do think it was the prolactin levels.”

“How am I attracted to you?” he mumbles, kissing the side of her neck, then her collarbone.

She grins and laughs, then murmurs in approval as he pulls her close.

She smiles assuredly and touches his face. “Snow day?” she asks.

He nods. They get up on either side of the bed, then look at each other and smile. Thirty minutes later, they’re walking down an unplowed sidewalk, dodging icy drips from the eaves above and pressing close to stay warm. The power never came back on, so they’re in search of a café for coffee and breakfast.

“Does winter ever end here?” Kala asks, voice muffled through her scarf.

“It just started,” he replies.

“I know that, but it feels like it’s been winter since September.” She shudders and goes on with a quiet groan, “And we have no heat. When will the power come back?”

He shrugs. “Last winter it was out for a few days.”

Kala shakes her head in amazement. “I think…” she muses as they round a corner towards a small, brick café with steam coming out of a vent, “that your ancestors were all peasants in Siberia and they passed on their unnatural ability to stay warm to you.”

“Siberia sounds nice, we should get married there,” he says.

“Ooh, yes, I hear they have a lovely black fly infestation in the summers,” she agrees, opening the door to the café.

He laughs and follows her inside. She orders a mocha with extra whipped cream, a chocolate muffin, and a package of gummy bears and sits down at a table near a fireplace. Wolfgang glances at her as she pours a few gummy bears onto the plate next to the muffin, frowning slightly.

“I told you,” she murmurs. “I depleted all my prolactin, and prolactin counteracts dopamine, and in theory, dopamine causes me to crave sugar, because every time I eat something sweet my brain releases dopamine so the presence of dopamine could indicate to my brain that sugar is also present, but it actually isn’t, so my brain tricks me into thinking it should be, and makes me buy sugary things.” She pauses, looking at Wolfgang, who’s staring at her with a slight smile, holding his coffee halfway between his mouth and the table, as if he forgot to set it down. “Wolfgang?”

“I love you so much,” he says quietly.

Blood rises in her cheeks and she blinks slowly. Then she nudges him under the table, leans forward, and kisses him gently. She dips her head down after she pulls away, smiling brightly, and sets her phone on the table.

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Let’s call them.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, I said I would, and I want to,” she says with a nod.

Wolfgang looks at her for a minute, then grins and kisses her quickly. She smiles faintly, hands shaking, and takes her headphones out of her bag. She puts one bud in Wolfgang’s ear and the other in her own so they can both hear, then plugs the wire into the phone and dials. It rings only once before Priya picks up.

“There you are! Do you know how many times I’ve called? I was beginning to wonder if you did something foolish like elope.”

“Good start,” Wolfgang says in German.

Kala shakes her head in annoyance and says, “Mom, we’re both here, so watch what you say.”

“Oh,” says Priya. She clears her throat. “Hello, Wolfgang.”

“Hello,” he says warmly.

“It’s loud, where are you?” asks Priya.

“A café, our stove isn’t working,” explains Kala.

“Hasn’t he fixed that?” Priya asks, lowering her voice and adding, “Oh, can’t he fix it? Does he know how to fix things? That’s important, Kala.”

“Mom,” Kala says patiently, “He speaks Hindi, remember? And our stove isn’t working because the power is out. And yes, he can fix things.” She glances at Wolfgang and says in German, “I’m so sorry.”

Wolfgang shakes his head in amusement.

“Is Dad there?” Kala asks. “We have news.”

“Oh my God, are you pregnant? You’re pregnant--”

“No!” sighs Kala. “Please, get Dad, and Daya.”

“And Auntie?” queries Priya.

“Only if you have to,” murmurs Kala.

They wait for a moment, listening to the bustle on the other line as Priya walks around the house, searching for the rest of her family. Wolfgang takes Kala’s hand and kisses her knuckles. She smiles, touching her knee against his under the table.

“We are all here!” announces Priya.

“Hello!” calls Sanyam. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course it isn’t, why would they ask us all to be here?” says Auntie.

“Auntie, shh,” says Daya.

Kala glances at Wolfgang and he nods at her.

“Okay, is everyone listening?” asks Kala, swallowing nervously, fingers tight on the phone.

They all make sounds of assent. Kala pauses, biting her lower lip and looking at Wolfgang again. Then she breathes out.

“We’re getting married,” she says quickly. “In June. In Paris, and you all have to be there.”

There’s a second of silence before they hear four overlapping responses.

“Oooh, will it be one of those romantic walk-down-the-aisle and throw the little flowers and rice and bridesmaids and dancing kind of weddings?” asks Daya. “If it is I want to be your maid of...what is it called? Honorary maid?”

“That is so soon!” gasps Auntie. “Why?”

“June?” asks Priya. “This June?”

“Congratulations,” says Sanyam. “What my lovely wife and sister-in-law and daughter are trying to say is _congratulations_.”

“Are you taking his name?” asks Daya. “What _is_ his last name? Does it sound good with your name? Isn’t it Russian or something? That might be strange…”

“It’s Bogdanow,” Kala says slowly.

“Oh, that’s terrible, no, you can’t have that last name,” says Daya. Then she gasps. “What does the ring look like? As soon as you hang up text me a picture of the ring!”

“It’s gold with ruby and--”

Daya’s squeal cuts off Kala’s response. “Gold and ruby are perfect! Oh, I was so worried, he doesn’t seem to understand style so--”

“I am on the phone, you know,” says Wolfgang.

“Yes, I know,” Daya says briskly. “So, where are you getting married in Paris? Oh please say the Eiffel Tower! That would be amazing. Kala. I would die. You have to do that. Unless he can’t afford it. Hm, he probably can’t, but you should anyway.”

“Daya, maybe if you spent less time worrying about what Wolfgang can and can’t afford, you wouldn’t have those unattractive worry wrinkles on your forehead,” Kala says brightly. “They’re already _so_ noticeable.”

Daya gasps. “They are?”

“Daya, let someone else speak!” snaps Priya. “Yes, congratulations, what is the date?”

“We just know it’s June,” Kala says cautiously.

“Oh my God, sweetheart, it’s already January! Who is planning everything?”

“We...we are,” says Kala.

Priya tsks. “I’ll send you the names of the best wedding planners in Berlin, I have a friend who knows these things.”

“When will you know the date?” asks Auntie. “I need it for my astrologist.”

“Good, we have that to look forward to,” murmurs Wolfgang in German.

“What did he say?” asks Daya.

“He said he’s looking forward to what the astrologist says,” replies Kala easily.

Wolfgang laughs quietly and drinks his coffee.

“He should be,” Auntie says severely. “Getting married on the wrong day alters the entire course of your marriage.”

“Yes, as if marrying the wrong person doesn’t,” says Kala in German.

“Why are you two speaking German?” sighs Daya.

“Okay,” Kala says, ignoring Daya, “we should go! We’ll call you with the date, Auntie.”

“As soon as possible, Kala!” says her aunt.

“Yes, love you, goodbye,” says Kala firmly, pressing end and looking at Wolfgang. “Was that too abrupt?”

He shakes his head. Then he says, “You really want to marry a man with no money or sense of style and an ugly last name?”

Kala’s lips twitch in a glum, amused smile. "It isn't ugly." Then she takes both of his hands and murmurs, “Do you really want to marry a woman with a family who can’t shut their stupid mouths?”

He grins and kisses her, chuckling. “Yes, I do.”

She smiles. “Good.” She kisses him exuberantly, but pulls away a moment later with a slight frown. “We _do_ have a lot to talk about.”

He nods, tapping his fingers on the side of his mug. Then he reaches into his jacket for a pad of paper and a pen -- Kala looks at the items with a touch of surprise -- and opens to a blank page. He slides the pad and pen to her a slow smile grows on her face.

She draws a checkbox, then writes down _talk about last name_ next to it. She glances up. “What else?”

“Date, place, I don’t know, babe,” he replies, drinking his coffee.

She writes these too, then hums in thought. “I don’t want another traditional wedding. But I don’t want our wedding to be entirely Western...I think we could blend the two...and Wolfgang?”

He looks at her.

“I don’t want to take your last name,” she says softly.

He shakes his head to show he doesn’t mind. “Would have been surprised if you wanted to.”

“Really?” asks Kala hopefully.

He nods and squeezes her hand. She smiles and offers him a chunk of her chocolate muffin.

She writes out plans the rest of the morning. He sits back, watching her with a slight smile, glancing occasionally at her ring which glints in the light from the fire. She describes venues and decorations, and he takes the notepad and sketches them for her. She smiles, watching the movement of his hands, amused by the way he softly bites his bottom lip. They’ve just finished their coffees and reached for their coats when Kala’s phone rings.

She picks it up cautiously. “Mom?”

The line is quiet for a brief moment before Priya bursts out, “Beta, I’m sorry, I’ve been unfair to you. You clearly love this man and that is what matters. I shouldn’t ask why or when or worry as much as I do. You are much more clear-headed than I was at your age and I should trust you.”

Kala sniffles loudly. Wolfgang looks at her in concern and murmurs, “Is everything okay?” and she nods hard, smiling.

“Thank you, Mom,” says Kala gently.

“Of course,” murmurs Priya, adding nervously, “Will you apologize to Wolfgang for me?”

Kala smiles at her mother’s imperfect pronunciation of his name. “Yes, though I think he understands. And so do I.”

“And Sanyam told me to tell you that he wants to cater everything.”

Kala laughs. “I thought he might.”

“Yes, well…” Priya sniffles. “We’re both very happy you found someone. Take care, now.”

Kala smiles. “We will.”

She hangs up, glances at Wolfgang, and says very softly, “I think you were right.”

“What about?” he asks, tugging a wrinkle out of the cuff of his jacket and reaching for his gloves.

“Beliefs changing,” explains Kala, one eyebrow curved in surprise, gaze fixed on the muffin crumbs on the table.

She starts to smile, and after a moment, looks at Wolfgang with a steady, warm gaze. She takes both of his hands and starts solemnly, “For months, I prayed that when they finally met you, they would love you, because you deserve a family that loves you. You deserve more than just me. And after they met you I...I knew my father would love you, and Daya is rude and I want to slap her more and more every time she talks to you but she’s harmless, but my mother...it hasn’t been the same between us after she met you and now…” She beams. “Now it is again.”

Wolfgang nods, also smiling. Then he tucks a stray ringlet behind her ear and kisses the side of her mouth. “I love that you want that for me. But I just need you.”

Her lips tremble slightly and she swallows. “I love you.” Then she laughs and sniffles. “But now you’re stuck with all of us.” She playfully tugs him closer by his jacket. “You get to put up with astrology, and my bratty sister, and endless dal taste tests that will leave you wondering which particular spice my father changed in the recipe, and you’ll never guess correctly, and endless conversations with him about politics, and my mother asking on a daily basis if you’ve gotten me pregnant yet, and trips to Mumbai where you’ll surely get heat stroke…”

He grins and shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, you will,” teases Kala, kissing him quickly and letting go of his hands.

She puts on her jacket and her scarf, then pulls him to his feet and leads him towards the door, smiling over her shoulder at him.


	30. January 20, 8:27 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala picks her wedding dress with help from Lito, Sun, and Felix. Lito frets about his movie, and Kala and Wolfgang talk about kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mix of things *shrugs*

Kala stands at the bathroom sink, styling her curls into a messy bun while Wolfgang brushes his teeth next to her. She scowls gently at him in the mirror, unenthused about the prospect of picking a wedding dress with Lito. He makes a face at her and she relents and laughs softly.

“Why did I invite Lito?” she asks after a moment, spritzing perfume on her wrists and reaching for a pair of earrings.

“Wouldn’t have mattered if you invited him or not,” replies Wolfgang after rinsing his mouth. “He’d be there.”

“But have you seen him lately?”

Wolfgang’s glances at her, expression fixed. “He came to my office yesterday and sat on my desk for forty-five minutes, eating shrimp and crying. Is that what you mean?”

Kala sighs and gently covers her face with her palms. “He’s so nervous about the release date…”

“It’s going to be a disaster,” Lito murmurs from behind them, leaning on their bathroom wall and staring blankly at the floor.

Kala sighs more sharply. “Lito! Can’t you see I’m not ready yet?”

Lito looks up at them in the mirror, suddenly giving way to tears. “You two get ready together in the morning? That's so beautiful!”

Kala shakes her head, turns around, and steers Lito out of their bathroom and into their kitchen. He’s only visiting, and he could easily disappear, but she senses that he’s going to stay put and the kitchen is the safest place to keep him.

“Please, just wait, I’m nearly ready,” she says kindly. “And we’re picking out a dress for _me_ , you know.”

Lito sniffles and nods. “Today is not about me. I know. I will prove it to you.”

Kala eyes him as she returns to the bathroom, just in time to catch Wolfgang running water over his razor and tapping it on the side of the sink. She quickly takes the razor out of his hand.

“Don’t you dare,” she says seriously, setting the razor aside and reaching into the cabinet for the trimmer. “You can trim it but you aren’t getting rid of it entirely.”

She puts the trimmer into his hand with a gentle smile. He looks at her for a moment, pretending to be unamused. Then he smirks and squeezes her ass.

“Didn’t know you were so attached…” he murmurs, plugging the trimmer in.

“I like feeling the stubble when you kiss me,” she admits with a peachy flush. “And when you do...other things.”

“Ah,” he says, playing cool as he moves the trimmer around the side of his jaw.

She watches him for a moment, fingers pausing on her lipstick case, eyes suddenly dark. He catches her gaze in the mirror and smirks, and she rolls her eyes and leans close to her reflection, squinting as she brushes color over her lips. Then she notices him staring and she sighs loudly.

“This is why we can’t get ready together,” she says.

“Why?” he asks, unconcerned.

“Because now, instead of meeting Lito and trying on wedding dresses, I want to stay home with you and do things that would disqualify me from picking out a nice white one.”

“I think you’re already disqualified, babe.”

She elbows him, gasping. “Wolfgang!”

He shrugs. “I have photographic proof…”

Kala’s cheeks flush again as she puckers her lips and touches up the color on the corner of her mouth. She pulled her phone out after they made love last week and now she’s unsure if that was an intelligent thing to do. She just wanted a picture of them together for her background. “A tasteful one,” she had said, but Wolfgang quickly made sure things turned less tasteful.

He smiles at her in the mirror and nudges her side, then kisses her above her ear. “You’ll look beautiful whatever you wear.”

She turns to look at him, softening. “Thank you.”

He nods, pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. Then he frowns.

“Sorry,” he says, gesturing at the crimson smudge over her upper lip.

She wipes it away and retouches the outline, smiling. “It’s okay. I should stop wearing lipstick.”

He nods solemnly. “And panties.”

She glances sideways at him, holding his gaze, waiting to see if he’ll break into a laugh. He doesn’t, so she rolls her eyes and pats his ass as she walks away. He looks over his shoulder at her as she goes into their room and she smiles gently at him as she sits on the bed, slipping on her heels. He chuckles to himself, finishing with the trimmer, and pats some cologne on either side of his neck. Then he walks out of the bathroom and sits on their bed next to her, glancing at her with heavy-lidded eyes and a keen smirk.

She meets his gaze, sitting primly, and then he puts his arms around her, shoves her onto her back, and roughly kisses the side of her neck. She grins, laughing, then moans in surprise when he puts a hand up her shirt.

Then there’s a knock at the door.

Kala groans. “No.”

She shakes her head in annoyance, finding Wolfgang’s free hand and pressing it to the breast he isn’t already squeezing. He dips his head down and laughs, squeezing both of her breasts and kissing her neck again.

“Mm, let me focus on that feeling so it stays with me all day...” she mumbles.

“Kala!” Lito calls impatiently.

“I’ll kill him,” says Kala breathily. “I’m going to kill him.”

Wolfgang shakes his head. “I have to go anyway babe, I’ll be late.”

She raises her eyebrows at him, then glances down at his hands. “Wouldn’t you rather be here?”

Lito pounds again and whines, “Kala?”

Wolfgang frowns slightly. “Not now.”

Kala laughs and shoves him gently, then sits up and straightens her shirt. She dashes into the bathroom to fix her lipstick again, then hurries towards the door, pulling Wolfgang with her into the kitchen. They find Lito absentmindedly eating some peach slices out of a bowl he found in their fridge.

Kala breathes out. “So much for my breakfast…”

“Nothing tastes the same,” says Lito, shaking his head. "The anxiety has taken away my taste buds."

A new voice enters the room -- it’s Sun, not bothering to hide her exasperation. “Why is it always me?”

Kala looks in surprise at Sun, who is leaning against the counter, wearing a black crop-top and sweatpants with the Seoul Police Department symbol on the side.

“It appears this time it’s both of us,” says Kala.

Sun shakes her head in annoyance.

“Do you mind if she goes with us?” asks Lito desperately, gesturing at Sun.

“I am not the right person to ask for advice about a wedding dress,” says Sun flatly.

Lito looks imploringly at Kala, mouthing, “Please?”

Kala glances at Sun, sighing. “Do you mind?”

Sun tips her head back as if asking the universe to pull her into a sinkhole and save her from wedding dress shopping. “Fine.” She looks at Lito. “At least you aren’t wearing the onesie.”

Lito is wearing tiny lime-green shorts and a tank-top with the phrase “hello boys” written on the front in white cursive. It’s so tight Kala momentarily wonders if he borrowed it from Dani, and determines this is a frighteningly plausible scenario. She glances at Wolfgang, who slowly shakes his head. He seems distressed for ever letting himself believe that planning their wedding would be simple and intimate, free from influence and complication from the Cluster.

“I might prefer the onesie,” murmurs Kala and Sun cracks up.

Wolfgang pulls Kala closer by her arm, kissing the side of her head and picking up a to-go cup of coffee from the counter. “Have to go, I love you.”

She smiles and kisses his mouth quickly, then pushes him towards the door. When it clicks, Sun looks at her with a satisfied smirk.

“He’s so responsible,” she says quietly.

Kala flashes her eyes at Sun, whose smirk steadily grows. Kala finally relents and smiles.

“He likes his job,” she explains, brightening. “I’m happy for him.”

Sun smiles too. “So are we.”

“He loves you so much,” adds Lito, tears threatening to spill again.

Sun glances at him and says firmly, “The critics loved your movie, so will the public, stop crying.”

“Please stop crying,” agrees Kala, pressing forward to squeeze Lito’s hands.

He nods and sniffles, then grins brightly. “Let’s find your wedding dress.”

Kala grins too. “Okay.”

***

Twenty minutes later, Kala stops at her favorite café. Sun and Lito make coffee in Seoul and Los Angeles while they wait for her drink to show up at the counter. She’s just slipped a coffee sleeve over the cardboard cup when she glances up to see Felix. She frowns slightly as she waves him over. His eyebrows jump in surprise, but he grins and pulls her into a hug when he walks up to her.

“Hey, Mrs. Bogdanow,” he says.

She laughs. “Hi, Felix. What are you doing here?”

He gestures at the bakery case as if it’s self-explanatory. “Have you had the muffins here?”

“Oh, I know!” she agrees excitedly while Sun and Lito look on. “Have you tried the chocolate ones?”

He groans. “Fuck, yeah. I asked if they shipped overseas, you know, because of Dani--”

“Because of who?” interrupts Lito, and Kala looks over her shoulder at him with a _shh!_ expression despite the fact Felix can’t hear him.

“--but they don’t,” Felix goes on with a defeated shrug.

Kala smiles warmly. “Maybe you could replicate the recipe for her.”

He laughs. “Doubt it. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I…” She breathes in. “I’m skipping work to pick out my wedding dress, actually.”

His eyebrows jump, then he forces his face to form a less exuberant expression. “Oh. Oh, cool.”

Kala hesitates, then smiles softly. “Hey Felix?”

“Hey what?” he asks, too excited.

“Would you like to help?” she asks, the corner of her mouth twitching in a smirk.

“Fuck, yes, I thought you’d never ask,” he replies fervently.

She laughs and squeezes his arm. “Okay. The color scheme is white, red, grey, and black. So. No orange. Or purple. Or fur. Or patterns. Oh, and Sun and Lito are here.”

He nods. “I can handle it.” Then he frowns. “Where’s Wolfie?”

“Wolfgang?” murmurs Sun. “Picking out a wedding dress?”

Kala holds back a laugh and says to Felix, “He’s at work. And, as Riley and Will and Nomi have repeatedly told me, it’s bad luck for him to see my dress.”

Kala can feel Wolfgang scoff in her mind.

“Oh, shit, it is,” says Felix seriously. “Make sure he doesn’t, you know, visit you.”

“I’ll try,” says Kala, raising an eyebrow and nudging Felix as the barista hands him a bag of muffins.

They make their way out of the coffee shop into the raw January morning, Kala shivering on instinct and pulling her jacket tighter. Felix, seemingly immune to the cold, eats a muffin and glances up at the sky, frowning.

“Going to snow again,” he says.

Kala sighs feebly. “The last time it snowed we lost power for five days.”

“That’s because Wolfie’s apartment is cheap as shit, bad wiring,” says Felix

"And thin walls, Lito adds with a smirk.

Kala turns to wrinkle her nose at him. “How do you know about that?”

“Know about what?” asks Felix.

“Nothing,” Kala says quickly, sipping her coffee.

The group continues to walk south, Kala checking her phone for directions and occasionally texting Wolfgang.

_Wolfgang, 9:19 a.m. -- Fuck this traffic._

_Kala, 9:20 a.m. -- What happened?_

_Wolfgang, 9:20 a.m. -- Accident._

_Kala, 9:21 a.m. -- Why don’t you take the metro?_

_Wolfgang, 9:22 a.m. -- People._

Kala tips her head back, black curls shaking in amusement as she smiles.

_Kala, 9:22 a.m. -- Are you texting and driving?_

_Wolfgang, 9:23 a.m. -- No?_

_Kala, 9:23 a.m. -- Your driving is bad enough without being distracted._

She feels Wolfgang smirk.

_Wolfgang, 9:24 a.m. -- At least I can drive._

_Kala, 9:24 a.m. -- Rude. I love you. Focus. Goodbye._

_Wolfgang, 9:24 a.m. -- I love you._

Kala smiles at the text. It may seem like a detail, but every time he takes the time to type out the words, she’s reminded that she’s the only woman he’s ever said them to.

The weather grows steadily worse as they continue towards Neuköln. Felix frowns at the neighborhood but Kala assures him there’s an excellent bridal shop nearby. Lito trails behind, sipping his espresso, and in Seoul, Sun exchanges an exasperated expression with Kwon-Ho and shakes her head, unable to explain the exact situation she’s currently in. They step up to the shop after ten more frigid minutes and Kala and Felix go inside, followed invisibly by Sun and Lito.

Kala stops and bites her lip at the sheer variety of the dresses, unsure where to begin. Before, all the women in her family guided her through the process of selecting her attire, jewelry, and makeup, and she almost misses the advice.

She glances at Felix as she drags her hand over the silky fabric of a dress on the closest rack. “There are too many.” She tilts the price tag of the dress up and raises her eyebrows. “Oh Ganesha. Who spends $5000 for a dress?”

Sun frowns. “Many people spend more than that.”

Lito nods absently in agreement, checking his phone for movie news. Kala hears Hernando sigh loudly in Los Angeles and say, “No social media, remember?” Then she hears the clattering of the phone on the floor and wrinkles her nose.

“What was that?” she asks him, pulling a second dress off the rack and studying it.

He doesn’t answer, so she looks at him and finds him with his arms wide open, astonished.

“Dani knocked the phone out of his hands,” Felix tells Kala, gesturing with his own phone. “She just told me.”

Kala looks at Felix sideways, about to ask him if he’s excited to see her at the Oscars in March, but doesn’t get the words out because an attendant comes over, a bright smile plastered on her face.

“Welcome, are you the bride? How can I help?”

Kala pauses, startled, then tries to smile back. “I am the bride, yes...I’m looking for something…” She hesitates. “Affordable?”

“Of course,” says the attendant cheerfully, waving her towards a wall in the back of the shop. She looks at Felix. “Tell me you aren’t the groom, it’s terrible luck to see--”

“No, best man,” Felix says quickly.

The attendant looks at Kala. “Unusual shopping partner!”

Kala sighs. “Yes, but I love him, I couldn’t say no.”

“Did you hear that?” Felix says to the air, hoping Lito hears. “She loves me.”

“Yes, you’re the irritating little brother I never had,” she says, linking arms with him and pulling him at a faster pace.

“Why am I always the little brother?” he grumbles as they follow the attendant to the back of the shop.

She stops and gestures at a row of dresses. “These are priced affordably. Now, you’ll look quite nice in anything, but I would suggest something close-fitting rather than ballgown-style…”

Lito shakes his head knowingly and Kala tries not to look at him instead of the woman helping her.

“Don't listen to her, ballgowns are beautiful,” he says, now soothing his nerves by eating a package of gummy vitamins. “See this?” he goes on, tugging at the huge skirt of one of the dresses. “You'll look like a queen. A mermaid cut…” he continues, browsing along the row of dresses and pointing at a silky, narrow dress, “would look amazing too, especially your butt--”

“Lito,” sighs Kala.

“What was that?” asks the attendant.

Kala clears her throat. “Nothing. Ah. I was hoping you had a dress with some red accents, actually…”

“Are you sure?” asks Lito, frowning at her. “You have to be careful. A touch of red here or there could be tasteful, but you don’t want to look like a clown--”

“Lito,” murmurs Riley, appearing and putting a hand on his shoulder.

He breathes out and stops talking. Kala meets Riley’s eyes gratefully and Riley smiles, then yawns and stretches so her tummy shows from underneath her pajamas.

“Why are you awake?” asks Lito.

Riley shrugs and smiles feebly. “Will is on a late shift, I can never sleep when he’s working, I’m always too worried…” She turns to Kala. “And besides, I don’t want to miss this.” She squints. “Why are you awake?”

“Ay,” says Lito in response, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Dreams opened in theaters today.”

“Ah,” says Riley, giggling secretly with Kala. Then she grins. “Well, where is everyone else? We might as well all be here…”

Five minutes later, the entire Cluster is present except for Wolfgang. By that time, Kala has talked about bra size, lace versus taffeta, shoes, veils, and has endured several unfunny jokes about honeymoons and bachelor parties. The attendant finally disappears into the back to pull several dresses she thinks will suit Kala. Kala exchanges a meaningful eyeroll with Nomi.

“Okay, quickly, while she’s gone,” says Kala, directing the others to search through the racks for a dress they think she will like.

They each select one, and Felix jumps in front of another bride on their way to the fitting rooms so that Kala doesn’t have to wait. The other woman glares, but Felix shrugs unabashedly and gestures through the curtain for Kala.

Kala rolls her eyes fondly at him, weighed down by several heavy dresses, then disappears into the dressing room and sets them all down with a relieved groan. When she looks up, she sees Wolfgang sitting on the bench in the room with her.

“No!” she moans. “Wolfgang!”

“I can’t help it, I don’t mean to visit you,” he says.

She looks around at the dresses, all obscured by shiny plastic wrappers, then sits on the opposite bench with a tiny sigh.

“I keep thinking about how you’re going to be my wife,” he goes on quietly.

She looks up in surprise, heart pounding. She smiles and reaches her hands out for him to take.

“It's starting to feel ...real,” she agrees.

He nods, watching his hands around hers, thumbing over her knuckles. His expression remains tranquil for a moment, but then he smiles widely, shakes his head, and chuckles.

“What?” prompts Kala, grinning on instinct at the sound of his laughter.

“It seems impossible,” he admits.

She nods, laughing. “It does.” Then her expression softens and she looks into his eyes. “But it isn’t impossible.” She shakes her head slightly, astonished, and continues in a murmur, “I like it when you say...my wife.”

He brightens. “I’m going to say it so much you get tired of it.”

“I won’t get tired of it,” she promises, kissing him.

She pulls away quickly so she doesn’t become overwhelmed, and pulls him to his feet as she stands.

“Stay at work,” she tells him, kissing him once more.

“I’ll try,” he says.

He kisses the side of her head and squeezes her waist to say goodbye. She smiles, alone again.

“Have you tried on anything yet?” Capheus calls excitedly from the outside.

“Yes, show us!” chimes in Riley.

Kala hurries to unzip the plastic around the first dress. An hour later, having shown off all the dresses they picked (and the ones the attendant found, which she had to admit were quite nice) Kala finds herself on the floor of the fitting room, sinking in a sea of white lace, slightly cross-eyed as she gazes at the wobbly ceiling fan above her.

“Still okay in there?” the attendant chirps through the curtain.

“Mm,” says Kala, noncommittal, dragging her fingertips along a satin hemline. She sits up, disoriented by how many dresses she’s tried on, and then realizes her answer was insufficient. “I’m okay, yes!”

She glances around at the dresses, then forces herself to stand up and make a decision. She’s just picked up a bright white A-line dress with scarlet detailing when Felix knocks on the outside of the room.

“Riley texted me a picture of a dress, told me to go find something like it so… here,” he says, slipping the dress in between the curtain and the wall.

Kala frowns, not wanting any more to choose between, but she takes the dress and hangs it on the last remaining hook. When she unzips it, she gasps. Then she smiles widely, heart hammering, and reaches out a gentle, tentative finger to feel the fabric. It's as soft as her favorite sweater, but the fabric is slightly more shiny and crisp. The white is overlaid by subtle cream and red lace, and the shape of the dress is slinky but still full. It's exactly what she envisioned. She takes a deep breath and pulls the dress out of its cover, then steps into it. It's simple, unlike the other dresses which involved corsets and tiny buttons. She zips up the back and adjusts the straps on her shoulders. It's slightly too big around her waist, but this doesn't distract her. She sees the dress exactly as it will look once it's tailored and paired with a  _dupatta_.*

She touches her fingers under her eyes, collecting moisture, and sniffles. Then she steps past the curtain, overwhelmed, trying not to cry and influence her Cluster-mates. Everyone is quiet for a moment, stunned. Then Riley breathes out and grins.

"It's  _perfect_ ," she murmurs.

Kala agrees. An hour later, she walks out of the shop with a huge bag under her arm and an exhilarated grin on her face. [The dress](http://pinkweddings.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/white-wedding-dress-with-red-lace-naf-dresses-red-and-white-wedding-dresses.jpg) miraculously fit with only one minor alteration.

“Do you want to get lunch?” she asks Felix excitedly as they walk in the blustery snow.

Sun and Lito are still trailing along, and by this time Lito has borrowed Hernando’s phone to scour social media with. He continues to be distracted, and Sun continues to shake her head.

“I think we should get lunch,” Kala goes on. “There’s this lovely place with that serves dim sum all day, I’ve been craving that for weeks and it’s freezing, which makes it a perfect day for that.” She nudges him. “I’ll buy.”

Felix looks at her for a moment, holding back a laugh. Then he grins. “I’ve never seen you so excited.”

She thrusts the bag high over her head and shouts, “I’m getting married!” and then promptly smiles apologetically at the group of people they’re walking past.

Felix snorts. “Sure, lunch, we can talk about how we’re going to kidnap Wolfie and make him try on suits…”

Kala laughs and sighs at once. “I’ll tell him he has to sleep on the couch if he doesn’t buy a suit soon…”

Felix nods, impressed. “That would work!”

“Mm, I would give in far too quickly though… what about--?”

But she’s cut off by an exuberant yelp. She looks at Lito, who’s staring at the phone in his hands with glassy, stunned eyes.

“Rotten Tomatoes is at 94%!” he shouts.

“Oh, Lito, that’s wonderful!” says Kala.

Lito laughs and covers his face. “I’m overwhelmed!”

Sun rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Congratulations. Now you just have to wait to hear about the Oscar nominations…”

Lito looks at her with wide eyes, frozen in place as if slapped. “Oh my God. The nominations...those come out next week!”

“Sun,” groans Kala. “He’s going to spiral again now!”

But Lito doesn’t have time to spiral before the group arrives at a cozy dim sum restaurant. Kala and Felix go inside and select a seat near the window, and menus have just arrived when Kala’s phone buzzes. It’s Wolfgang, texting instead of visiting because the latter still makes Felix quite uncomfortable.

_Wolfgang, 2:06 p.m. -- I forgot my lunch. And my wallet, so I can’t get something. Help._

Kala sighs deeply and shows Felix the text.

“Sure you want to marry him?” asks Felix.

Kala laughs and texts back.

_Kala, 2:06 p.m. -- Couldn’t you borrow some money from a co-worker?_

_Wolfgang, 2:07 p.m. -- I’ve never done that in my life._

_Kala, 2:07 p.m. -- Fine. I’ll bring you something._  
_Kala, 2:08 p.m. -- You’re useless._

_Wolfgang, 2:08 p.m. -- I know._

Kala smiles gently to herself and gets to her feet. “Sorry, Felix…”

Felix shakes his head to show he doesn’t mind. “Go take care of you dumb fiancé.”

She chuckles and nods, putting her purse on her shoulder and picking up the bag with the wedding gown. She braves the gusty snow again, enjoying a brief respite on the metro, and walks down from the platform and onto a narrow street lined with offices, small restaurants, and hedges; the snow here hasn’t been plowed and the few autumn leaves that lingered through the winter are strewn now on the white landscape, dislodged by the wind last night. Kala follows the footpath through the snow down the sidewalk, holding her bag carefully away from the moisture. She ducks into a tiny café to pick up some rolls and coffee, then crosses the street to the mid-sized, gray building where he works. She’s passed it a few times when she goes on walks with him, but has never been inside.

She pauses for a moment at the door, then takes a breath and goes inside. It’s warm and brightly lit, the walls lined with little plaques bearing the names of donors. She can hear the sound of children chatting and laughing. There’s a woman at a reception desk, clicking rapidly on her keyboard.

“Um, hello?” says Kala. “I’m here to see my fiancé. Wolfgang.”

The woman looks up in surprise. “Oh. He’s getting married? He doesn’t talk much. Okay, last door on the left.”

“Wait, who’s getting married?” asks another voice.

Kala turns to see a diminutive woman with an afro, accented with one pink streak, wearing a red leather jacket. She reminds Kala of an even-smaller Amanita.

“Wolfgang,” explains the receptionist, and it strikes Kala as odd to hear his name spoken by someone other than Felix or the Cluster. It’s odd to imagine his life outside of their life together.

The woman raises her eyebrows and stops walking. She goes around the reception desk and shakes Kala’s hand excitedly.

“I had no idea! It’s so nice to meet you,” she says warmly, “I’m Sianeh, like Burnt Sienna, you know, the color, but call me Sia, like the singer. I’m the director here.”

Kala grins. “I’m Kala.”

“Wolfgang doesn’t talk much, does he?” asks Sianeh.

“No, he doesn’t,” says Kala with a laugh.

“Damn,” says Sianeh, shaking her head hard and squinting. “What else is he hiding? We should get drinks and you should reveal everything. This is for office morale, okay? Everyone’s been speculating about him.” She pauses and gestures at Kala. “That’s such a lovely scarf, I love the little cats on it. Why was he hiding you? You’re coming to our next office party, okay?”

“You have office parties?” murmurs Kala.

“Well, they’re more like fundraisers, but yes,” replies Sianeh. “But he never comes to them.”

“Well, that’s Wolfgang,” laughs Kala. She glances around. “This is a lovely space, you should be very proud of the work you do.”

Sianeh beams and squeezes Kala’s arm. “Thanks. You should be proud of your guy, he’s great.” She nods towards the hall. “C’mon, I’ll show you the way…”

Kala follows her down the hall, looking around. There’s a large room with canned goods and other food bank staples; a room with used clothes and coats; several classrooms and playrooms filled with children from toddlers to teenagers; a gym; a staircase leading to the shelter upstairs, and finally a row of offices.

Kala steps carefully over a toy tractor. Sianeh peeks her head into an office with the door cracked and Kala looks inside too. She sees Wolfgang at a desk, tilting his head at some paperwork as if deciding whether to tear it up out of frustration.

“Oh, working on those guardianship forms?” Sia asks. “Aren’t lawyers the worst?”

Wolfgang chuckles and nods without looking up.

“Hey, guess who’s here?”

Wolfgang looks up with a frown, then brightens at Kala and smiles slightly. He looks at his boss with a small shrug.

“I told you I had a girlfriend,” he says.

“Uh, yeah, but you didn’t say you were getting married!” says Sianeh, rolling her eyes. She pats Kala’s shoulder and nudges her into the office. “Does he talk more at home?”

“No, not usually,” she replies.

She thanks Sianeh for showing her to Wolfgang’s office, then pops her eyebrows at him and smiles gently. She sets her bags down on the chair opposite of him and looks around, smile widening.

“This is nice! I’m surprised. I was expecting something more like a hospital,” she admits.

He nods, then glances out of the office to see if anyone is watching, and when he sees they’re alone, he tugs Kala closer by her hand and looks up at her. She presses her lips together, amused, but leans down and kisses him softly. She feels him smile against her lips and she grins as he pulls back. They look into each other’s eyes for a moment, until Kala’s cheeks flush and she looks away.

She takes off her jacket and her scarf and then, glancing around like he did, sits on his lap. She reaches for the bag with their lunch inside.

“I got something to eat too, I’m starving,” she explains, opening the bag. “Can I eat with you?”

He nods, smiling, then laughs. “Why are you on my lap?”

“The other chair is far away, I’m cold, I missed you, I’m shameless, a variety of reasons,” she says quickly, handing him a salami roll.

“Thanks,” he says, nudging the bag and squeezing her waist.

“I don’t mind, I wanted to see where you work,” she says, thumbing over his jaw and gently touching her nose to his.

He nods. “I wanted to see you.” He glances at the bag on the other chair. “Is that…?”

She grins. “It is. But you can’t see it until the wedding.” She bites her bottom lip playfully. “But I will tell you that Felix picked it. Does that reassure you?”

Wolfgang’s eyes widen. Kala grins, pleased, and kisses him quickly. She pulls away when a boy yells “Nice, Mr. Bogdanow! Get some!” from the hall.

Wolfgang fixes the boy with a stare. He’s about fourteen, with messy dark hair and a black eye. He freezes.

“This is my fianceé,” says Wolfgang.

The boy puts his hands up. “Sorry, sorry.” Then he shrugs and adds, “She’s hot, good job!” before scampering out of sight.

“That’s why I haven’t brought you here,” says Wolfgang. 

She laughs, squeezing his arms. “Yes, thank you for protecting me from rude teenagers.”

“Of course, babe,” he laughs, taking a bite of the sandwich and reaching for his coffee.

Kala settles more comfortably against him, resting her feet on a hassock next to the desk. She looks around while she eats and drinks her coffee. His office has several of his favorite books, mixed in with children’s books, most of them old and in a state of slight disrepair. There’s a window which looks out on a snowy playground and on the windowsill there are several cups with markers, crayons, and pens. Kala’s smile steadily grows as she gathers details, until Wolfgang nudges her.

“What?” he asks.

“I like it here, I like that you work here…” She pauses, overwhelmed. “I’m proud of you.”

His expression softens. “Thank you.”

She smiles and nods. They eat quietly for another few minutes. Kala is just about to get up and go home when there’s a noise at the door. They look up and see a little boy, about six-years-old with wide, dark eyes and unruly hair like Kala’s. He peeks in through the crack, but when he sees Kala, he quickly ducks out of sight.

Wolfgang makes a worried noise and nudges her so she gets up.

“I’ll be back in a minute, I need to…” He trails off and worriedly rubs the back of his head. “This kid. Sorry. One minute.”

Kala frowns, interested, as he disappears out the door and into the hall. She sits down, tapping her fingers lightly on his desk, flipping through the nearest book. Then she takes a steadying sip of coffee and gets to her feet. She goes into the hall, too curious, and stops to take in the sight of Wolfgang, a few yards away, kneeling in front of the boy and listening to him talk. The boy's head is bowed and he seems to be stumbling over an explanation.

Kala steps closer, holding her breath as she watches. She sees Wolfgang nod and smile slightly, then say something that makes the boy laugh. She watches Wolfgang’s posture soften in relief, watches as he pauses, as the boy tilts his head with a question and wrinkles his nose. Wolfgang hesitates before answering and Kala notices his shoulders tense up. She squints, stepping slightly closer, studying the kind intensity in his eyes.

And as she studies, her heart swells painfully; something tender and enduring settles in her chest and she breathes out, suddenly off-balance. _Oh no._ She bites her bottom lip, both annoyed with herself and indescribably giddy. On one hand, she feels rather irresponsible that she didn’t consider the consequences of seeing Wolfgang with children. It doesn’t help that the little boy looks like their son would look. On the other hand, she’s surprised that the image is affecting her the way that it is. _This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Look at his little nose!_  She covers her face and scolds herself. _Oh no. Oh no, what have you done?_ Then the less pragmatic part of her mind screeches _Babies! You should have his babies!!_ She groans at herself, looking at Wolfgang again, determined not to melt. But then she sees him squeeze the boy’s shoulder and feels her knees go weak. The maternal part of her brain chuckles ominously at her, as if saying _It’s too late now. You can’t un-feel these feelings._ She sighs.

Wolfgang glances up at her from down the hall and she stands still and smiles. Based on the slight twitch of his eyebrows, her smile was entirely too enthusiastic. She clears her throat, blushing, and puts on a more reserved expression. He looks at her for another moment, confused, and then turns back to the boy. He says a few more words before getting to his feet, heading towards Kala.

The boy follows him, looking more cheerful than before, and smiles brightly at Kala with a mouth full of missing teeth. “Hi!”

“Uh, hi!” she says caught off-guard.

The boy continues into Wolfgang’s office, takes a coloring book off the shelf and grabs a cup of crayons, then plops on the carpet and begins to color without a word. Wolfgang glances after him.

“What are you doing?”

“Pictures.”

“Okay then,” says Wolfgang, turning back to Kala.

Kala smiles enthusiastically again, then catches herself, shakes her head slightly and says, “So!”

He looks at her in concern. She takes a breath, adjusting her hair so her curls spill over one shoulder, fidgeting with the bottom button of her cardigan. The pesky voice in her mind tells her to kiss him passionately, but she resists.

“I - I’m going to - I think I’m going to go home,” she says, nodding.

Wolfgang searches her expression for a moment, starting to smile. Finally, he says, “Kala?”

She looks up, flustered, blinking too many times. “Wolfgang?”

He reconsiders and shakes his head. “Nothing, go home.”

She nods, going into his office to put on her coat and collect her bags. She pauses as she leaves, staring at the little boy. Wolfgang catches this but doesn’t say anything, wanting to avoid any misinterpretation. Kala smiles at him as she passes him in the doorway and she kisses him, hands lingering on his chest.

“Yes, um,” she murmurs, kissing him again. “Yes. Bye.”

He laughs softly. “Bye, babe.”

Kala takes a bath when she gets home while she sips a glass of wine, hoping the warm water will relax her. She finds herself distracted, however, so she puts on some music. When that doesn’t work, she tries reading, balancing the book on her soapy knees. But her thoughts remain on repeat, an irritating circle of _I know I don’t want children_ and _maybe I want children_ and _damn him for making me think about this_.

She has another glass of wine after she gets out of the tub, sipping it while she stands in front of the mirror and puts on lotion. She looks at her reflection for a moment, then rubs her hands experimentally over her tummy.

She instantly pulls her hands back and says, “no, no” aloud, then quickly puts on a robe and walks into their room. She refreshes her wine, then gets in bed and takes a book of crosswords off the side table. She puts on reading glasses and starts a new puzzle.

An hour later, Wolfgang comes home and finds her in bed, face close to her book. She’s pouting slightly, brows wrinkled, as she erases something and shakes her head.

“Babe?” he says quietly, so he doesn’t startle her.

She looks up, expression softening, but doesn’t set her book aside. “Who was in charge of Russia before Gorbachev?”

“Chernenko,” he replies, taking his jacket off, loosening his tie, and reaching down to unlace his boots.

“Mm, thank you,” she murmurs, writing the name out.

He chuckles in response, tossing his jacket onto the chair nearby and sitting next to her. He watches her pencil in another clue, and then she turns and meets his eyes. Her smile is fragile.

“Hi,” she says, kissing him hello.

He tilts her face up and kisses her more deeply, smiling against her lips, finding her waist under the covers; it surprises him how grateful he feels, night after night, that he gets to sleep next to this woman. He smiles wider at the warmth of her skin, then pulls back and brushes his nose on hers.

“Hi, he finally responds.

She laughs quietly, then breathes out and he feels her fingers clench in his shirt. His brows twitch in concern and he pulls back, just enough to meet her eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly.

She nods, breathing in, but he sees a storm break in her eyes.

“Kala,” he goes on cautiously.

She bites her bottom lip. “I --” She stops. “When I saw you today, with that little boy…”

He tenses, unsure, studying her expression with dark, careful eyes.

“I…” She trails off, then swallows and finally looks at him. “Wolfgang, I don’t know how to explain this and I’m sure I’ll say everything wrong, but all my life, the idea of having a child terrified me because I only ever understood it to mean that I would be excluded from a career and I would be alone at home with a child who I would resent because I was so alone, and I never...I never considered having children with someone who wouldn’t force me into a position like that, I never thought that I could have both, and I feel so silly for never considering that but you have to understand that it’s unusual to have both where I come from and once I was with Rajan it didn’t just seem unusual, it seemed impossible...but today, seeing you, I…” She pauses to breathe and sniffle. “I don’t know how much I want children. But I...I think I want _your_ children.”

He breathes in. He wasn’t expecting this, though he isn’t sure what he was expecting.

“You…” He pauses, collecting his thoughts.

“I want to have a baby with you,” she explains, quickly adding, “eventually. Years from now.”

He stares. “You do?”

She sniffles. “When I saw you today, I could see how much that little boy trusted you and how kind you were being...and I know what you want, and I don’t want to say no to that because of fears that shouldn’t apply anymore.” She presses closer, swallowing, and meets his eyes. “You would be a wonderful father.”

He stares at her, the words ringing. Then he breathes out and kisses her, fingers knotted in her robe, overwhelmed.

“You would,” she mumbles against his lips, smiling now. She pulls back, eyes bright. “I watched your whole conversation and I can’t describe it. You were so careful and you made him laugh and…” She sniffles suddenly. “I wish the world was safer.”

He nods seriously and glances down. Then he murmurs, “When we move to Paris I want to help Sensate kids. Kids BPO made into orphans.”

Kala looks at him in surprise, then softens and swallows the urge to cry. She nods, then smiles. “Why…?” She stops herself, but he nudges her to go on. She flushes and continues, “Why do you like children?”

He shrugs. “Don’t know.” Then he adds, “They’re honest.”

She nods again, smiling.

“And they believe life is good,” he goes on, adding more quietly, “until they don’t.”

Kala’s smile fades. “Do you ever worry it’s too hard for you at work?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “But those kids don’t listen to anyone who hasn’t been through what they have. It’s about understanding them.”

Kala chews gently on the inside of her cheek. “That’s what I worry about. I don’t think I understand children.”

He shakes his head. “You will, once you’re around them.” He smiles. “You understood me, and I’m more complicated than children.”

She laughs. “True.”

“The way you looked at me the first night we talked...you understood, even if you didn’t know you did.” He drags his knuckles along her arm, smile widening. “And kids see that. They always know what you’re thinking.”

“Do they?” she asks.

He chuckles. “Yeah.” Then he leans back and raises his eyebrows at her. “You mean it?”

She breathes out and takes a moment to answer, but when she smiles, he can see she’s being genuine. She nods and he nods in response. Then he grins.

“Okay, let’s do this,” he says, unbuckling his pants.

Kala throws her head back, covers her face, and laughs wildly. “Oh my God! I said eventually! And I take birth control, silly..."

He laughs too, leaning on the pillows and pressing his face into her neck. Her laugh softens into a giggle as he kisses her, and then he pulls her roughly closer and digs his thumbs into her ribs. She kicks her feet, bursting into laughter again, trying to shove him away as he tickles her.

“Oh, I hate you!” she whispers, blood flooding her cheeks as she gasps for air.

He laughs, letting up, and kisses her behind her ear. Then he lifts up, shifting on top of her, and meets her eyes. She smiles playfully, then tilts her head up, asking. He chuckles and kisses her and she murmurs in approval, wrapping her arms around him.

She touches her nose against his as he pulls away.

“Is this why you were acting strange?” he asks.

She laughs. “Yes. I’ve never had this feeling before. It’s a bit frightening.”

He thumbs over her brow, pushing her hair out of her face. “I know.”

She shakes her head. “No, you don’t. It’s a very uncomfortable thought, sharing my body with another human for nine months. I’m very protective of my body. I don’t like feeling that it’s out of my control.” She pauses, glancing down at herself. “I don’t want my internal organs to get squished, Wolfgang.”

He wrinkles his nose.

She sighs, eyes brightening. “But can you imagine? Our children would be so beautiful and intelligent and probably too brave and definitely too reckless but...but we would love them.”

He nods, smiling, and kisses her again. She smiles too, but sighs again.

“But oh. A little alien inside of me, taking up all my nutrients, making me progressively weaker, and finally escaping through a part of my body that is _not_ designed to fit something the size of a human head.” She pauses. “Is that the sexiest description of a vagina you’ve ever heard?”

He hangs his head, laughing, and plays along with a nod. “Yes. It is.”

“I thought so,” she says, laughing at herself. Then she nudges him with her nose. “Did I scare you away?”

He shakes his head. She smiles gently.

“Good. Take my mind off of things.”

He smiles, holding her gaze for a moment before kissing her forcefully and reaching to untie her robe. She smiles against his lips and sinks into the bed, pulling back one last time.

“I love you,” she murmurs, sliding her hands up his chest and squeezing his shoulders.

“Love you too,” he agrees.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *duppata = Indian wedding veil


	31. March 8, 3:05 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cluster attends the Oscars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Felix have Too Much to drink in this chapter. Drink responsibly, kids.

Kala hauls her suitcase into the backseat of Wolfgang’s car, then pauses to move her hair out of her eyes. She glances over her shoulder as Wolfgang steps off the curb and adds his suitcase, and he glances at her with a soft grin.

“Ready?”

She brightens and nods. “We need to stop accepting plane tickets from Lito.”

He laughs. “We’re going to lose our jobs.”

“We are,” she agrees. She reaches out and pulls him closer, then plants a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay. I’ll be unemployed with you. For rich or for poor.”

His mouth twitches and she can tell he wants to laugh, but is refusing to because it would be in response to something too sentimental for his taste. She elbows him and he gives in, grinning, and pushes her gently towards the passenger seat.

She sits cross-legged, pulling her scarf over her shoulders to keep warm, and sips coffee which she’s added several teaspoons of caramel syrup to. Wolfgang watched her do this with a slightly unnerved expression, as if neglecting a sacred duty to stop her from ruining her coffee with sugar. She responded by sticking her tongue out and adding more syrup.

He gets in the driver’s side and checks traffic briefly before pulling out into it.

Kala sighs. “At least you checked.”

“You can criticize my driving,” he says quietly, “after you learn to drive.”

Kala raises her eyebrows at him, pretending to be unamused. He shrugs.

“That look doesn’t work anymore,” he says.

“Why?” she whines.

“Because I know you aren’t serious.”

She huffs and sips her coffee, and says after a moment, “You understand that you’re touring several movie studios with me and going to at least one amusement park and you aren’t allowed to complain.”

He glances at her. “Can you take Felix instead?”

She laughs and nudges him. He reaches for her hand, and she soothes the various scars on his palm, a slight smile on her face. They continue the drive to Felix’s shop in silence, glancing occasionally at each other, full of warmth. The wedding is months away, but Kala doesn’t mind the wait; with the passage of each day, her doubts fade. It’s been weeks since she woke up, drenched in sweat and shouting breathily for Wolfgang, sure she’s alone, sure he’s dead. Each day gives her a new opportunity to trust herself, to believe nothing will threaten what they have together, who they are together.

“Babe?” he asks, watching her.

She breathes in, startled. “Oh, I was…” She smiles and shakes her head. “Never mind.” Then she laughs. “How often do I do that?”

“Stare into space?” he asks. “At least once a day.”

She blushes slightly. “I’m...so grateful. That you’re alive, that we’re alive.”

He nods, thumbing over her hand. “Me too.”

She nods in response, then leans to press a long, warm kiss to his cheek. She nuzzles him with her nose as she pulls away, then sniffles and sips her coffee.

“I’m as bad as Lito, I want to cry at everything lately,” she says.

He smiles and squeezes her hand, turning onto Felix’s street. They wait outside his shop for a moment, but he doesn’t come out.

Wolfgang shakes his head in annoyance and gets out to go get him. He unlocks the door and goes through the front of the shop and into the cluttered kitchen area where he finds Felix at a table, asleep with his head on a book. Wolfgang frowns slightly. He’s never seen Felix with a book, except as a boy at school, and he was more likely to be drawing obscene pictures on the pages than actually reading them.

Wolfgang knocks hard on the doorframe. “Felix!”

Felix sits up with a start and rubs his face. “Huh? Issat you, Wolfie? Why you here…” He sets his face back down on the book.

“Damn it, Felix, we need to be at the airport in an hour,” says Wolfgang.

Felix sits up again, more energized. “Shit! Right! I just need to brush my teeth, hold on, shit, sorry…”

Wolfgang shakes his head. “The fuck, Felix?”

“Stayed up too late!” Felix bellows, running up the stairs.

“Didn’t you set an alarm?” asks Wolfgang.

“What are you, my father?” shouts Felix.

Wolfgang folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe while he waits. Then he glances at the book, checks that Felix isn’t coming back down the stairs, and walks over to the table. He lifts the book up.

_Spanish for Beginners_

A slow smirk starts on his face.

Felix comes back into the kitchen a moment later, drying his face on his shirt and lugging a large, overstuffed backpack. Wolfgang glances at it.

“We’ll be in Los Angeles for three days,” he points out.

“Yeah, around movie stars, and executives, at big events! I need a variety of styles!” Felix says defensively. He adds with a frown, “Just say L.A. like a normal person, Wolfie.”

“I don’t like abbreviations--”

“Why the fuck do you have an opinion about abbreviations?” Felix holds his hands up. “Never mind. I’ll never understand your brain. Let’s go.”

Wolfgang nods, but then he smirks and holds the book up. “Forgetting this?”

Felix stares at the book, then nods softly and defeatedly.

Wolfgang grins in victory and hands the book over. Felix sighs, flipping through it, jaw tight with disappointment. Wolfgang softens slightly and nudges his shoulder.

“Hey. Felix.”

Felix looks up and shrugs. “It’s too fucking hard, Wolfie.”

Wolfgang’s brows twitch in concern, and after a moment he says quietly, “So you’re in love with her.”

Felix nods heavily. “Yeah. I’m an idiot.” He sets the book down and shrugs again. “I’ll never get it. Let’s go.”

Wolfgang picks the book up. “I was going to give you so much shit for this. But now I can’t.”

Felix frowns. “Why not?”

“Because this matters to you,” says Wolfgang. He shakes Felix’s shoulder and puts the book back into his hand. “Let’s go.”

Felix nods, stunned, and follows Wolfgang out of the shop. He takes a seat in the back and Kala turns, smiling warmly at him.

“Hi, Felix! You look exhausted, are you sick?”

He shakes his head. “No. Just stupid.”

“He’s in love with Dani,” says Wolfgang, starting the car.

Kala’s brows peak. “Oh! Oh, that’s...not terribly surprising.”

“He’s learning Spanish for her,” adds Wolfgang.

“Oh my God!” says Kala, putting a hand on her heart. “Aw, I would melt if a man learned a language for me. We told my parents Wolfgang learned Hindi for me and that softened them up.” She glances at Wolfgang with a playful smile. “We have a fifteen-hour flight. I think we could teach him a lot in that time…”

“No, you guys don’t have to--”

“We love you, we’re going to help,” says Kala firmly.

Felix doesn’t have the energy to argue.

Ten hours later, Felix is asleep with his face smashed to the tiny plane window, the Spanish book open on his lap.

“We tried,” murmurs Kala.

Wolfgang nods, looking at Felix with a small smile. “He’ll be okay.” Then he glances at Kala. “Want to make out in the bathroom?”

She nods seriously. “I thought you would never ask.”

***

Shadows grow long in Los Angeles as Kala and Wolfgang, along with most of their Cluster, taxi from the airport to a hotel. The hotel Lito chose is luxurious, situated just north of West Hollywood on a bluff. Each room has a huge tub, a balcony, and a bed big enough to fit the whole Cluster -- not that Kala and Wolfgang intend on inviting anyone in.

As soon as Wolfgang unlocks the door, Kala traipses in, sets her bags aside, and flops on the bed with a soft, excited sigh. She grins, kicking her flats off, and Wolfgang lies next to her, pulling her close with a quick tug, and kisses the side of her neck.

“We get to attend the Academy Awards,” she says breathlessly. “Can you believe it?”

He chuckles. “No.” Then he opens his eyes to glance at her. “I love you.”

She looks at him in surprise. “Did you already raid the hotel’s mini bar…?”

He laughs. “No. I just like it when you’re excited.”

She shifts her legs around him so she’s straddling him. He lifts up and kisses her and she smiles as she returns the kiss, then rests sleepily on top of him while he rubs her back.

“I love you too,” she murmurs, adding, “I wish we had come a day earlier…”

He makes a noise of agreement. “Long flight.”

They stay like this for a moment, until Kala tucks her nose against his jaw and kisses him under his ear, grinning playfully. She lifts up, finding his mouth, and presses her body close to his. He murmurs in surprise, moving his hands down her back.

She takes a breath and glances at him with needy eyes. “Do we have time to--”

There’s a knock at the door. It’s Felix, bellowing, “Are you two ready yet?”

Kala closes her eyes, exasperated, and rests her head defeatedly on Wolfgang’s chest. He breathes out, also annoyed, and wraps his arms chastely around her.

“He has a sixth sense,” murmurs Kala. “He _knows_.”

They stay still for another moment, until Felix shouts, “Are you two even in there? The limo will be here soon!”

“Yes!” yells Kala tersely.

“Okay then,” says Felix. “You don’t have to be rude about it…”

Kala and Wolfgang meet eyes, vowing revenge, and then she gets to her feet. She goes into the bathroom to wash her face and style her hair into long curls. She does her makeup with more attention to detail than typical, finishing with bright red lips, then puts on the black lingerie she picked to wear under her gown. She returns to the bedroom to finish getting dressed, but she stops in place when she sees Wolfgang.

Wolfgang has just put on the last piece of his tuxedo -- a neat, fitted black jacket -- and is now adjusting a cufflink.

“Are...are you wearing a tuxedo?” she murmurs.

“Lito made me promise,” he explains.

She swallows. “Oh. You look. You look nice.” She breathes in sharply and whispers to herself, “Focus, Kala.”

He glances at her. “Are you talking to yourself?” Then he breathes in at the sight of her, quiet and overwhelmed.

She blushes and looks down at herself, crossing her ankles and swaying slightly. She glances at him and tucks her hair behind her ear. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, not speaking. Finally, Kala tilts her head back and laughs, feeling glamorous and slightly silly. He grins gently and reaches his hand out to her, and she takes it and he pulls her close. She places her hands on his shoulders and looks up at him with a relaxed smile.

“Hi,” she says happily.

He moves her hair over one of her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, and pulls her against his body. She breathes in, closing her eyes, and lets herself indulge for a moment while he trails a series of kisses down to her collarbone. He presses a final kiss to the shell of her ear and moves his hands over the front of her body, fingers catching on the band of her panties. They look at each other again, both anticipating, but then Kala’s lips twitch into a soft smirk.

“We’re going to be late,” she murmurs.

He nods reluctantly, and she stretches to share a quick kiss before stepping away. She opens her suitcase and pulls out a short black dress; the skirt is leather, and the top is iridescent, inky taffeta. Wolfgang picked it, for what she’s sure are selfish reasons, but she doesn’t mind. She puts the dress on, then glances at the heels she bought to go with it -- red stilettos.

“Can I wear slippers?” she asks, sitting with a huff on the bed.

He looks at her. “No.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.

He finishes adjusting his dark blue tie, then crosses the room to her and picks up the heels. He kneels in front of her and puts one heel on her foot, then one on the other. She softens, smiling.

“Thank you,” she murmurs as he closes the delicate buckle on each heel.

He smiles too, then kisses the inside of her knee. She breathes in, pulse suddenly pounding. He kisses her other knee, then presses several kisses up her thigh.

“Wolfgang,” she breathes.

He drags his hand down her calf and thumbs over her ankle bone, kissing the inside of each knee another time. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and he feels her skin prickle excitedly under his touch.

“Wolfgang,” she almost whines. “You can’t tease me like this before a party.”

He pulls his hands slowly away and stands up. He looks at her for a moment before extending his hand and pulling her up.

“I hate you,” she murmurs before kissing him.

He nods. “I know.”

She glances down at her shoes with a sudden smirk, then steps away from him and turns slowly.

“Good?” she asks.

He nods, smiling faintly. “Everyone will be looking at you, babe.”

She grins. “Thank you.” Then she frowns, adding, “If men flirt with me, try not to break any arms.”

“I’ll try,” he replies.

She bites her bottom lip, sweeping her eyes over him. She smiles more widely and says, full of warmth, “You look wonderful.”

He watches her, suspended in time at her tone of voice. His face flushes slightly.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“Healthy,” she adds. “You look healthy.”

He breathes out and lifts her chin. “It’s been months.”

“I know. But I like to be reminded that you’re…” She takes a quick breath. “That you’re whole.”

He nods, then smirks. “Physically whole. Philosophically arguable.”

She groans and pushes him. “No! Please don’t quote Jonas!”

He grins and kisses her gently. A stubborn frown lingers on her lips after he pulls away and he raises his eyebrows. She frowns more deeply, thumbing over his temples.

“Your poor beautiful brain,” she murmurs.

“Maybe the electrocution erased some bad memories,” he says with an unconcerned shrug. “I should mail BPO a thank you note.”

“Wolfgang,” she sighs, turning around, taking her clutch off the bed, and pulling him towards the door.

He puts an arm around her as they walk down the hallway, joining the Cluster and Felix. Felix hangs back with them, nervously playing with a button on his suit, which they’re relieved to see isn’t lime green or patterned in any way. It’s a simply navy tux, and he picked a tie with blue magnolia flowers on it.

“Do I look okay?” he asks. “Is this tie funky? I haven’t seen her in weeks, she’s going to look fucking gorgeous, and--”

“You look fine,” says Wolfgang shortly.

“You look very nice,” Kala adds kindly, squeezing Felix’s shoulder.

Felix sighs. “Okay. Okay. And if I want to tell her she looks good I say _te ves hermosa_ , right? And if I want to tell her I missed her I say _te extraño_ with the swoopy N thing?”

Wolfgang nods and Kala smiles.

“Yes, perfect,” she tells him.

“Fuck, I’m so nervous,” he mumbles. “I’m never this fucking nervous around girls, tell her Wolfie!”

Wolfgang nods slowly. “One time he went up to a girl in a club and said _if I were you, I’d have sex with me._ ”

Kala wrinkles her nose. “Ew, Felix!”

“It worked,” says Wolfgang.

“How?” asks Kala in a high voice. “There is no man on earth who could say that to me and be successful! Even you, Wolfgang.”

Felix sighs. “I’ll say anything after five drinks. It’s a blessing and a curse”

Kala shakes her head in disbelief, and Riley catches her gaze, smirking. She links arms with her as the elevator doors open.

“You look beautiful,” she says warmly, adding, “are the boys behaving badly?”

Kala grins. “Felix, as usual.”

Riley nods knowingly. They step inside the elevator with the rest of the Cluster, minus Lito who is already at the theatre. Kala glances around, smiling lightly. Everyone is dressed to the nines, even Sun, and all are sleepy but cheerful.

“Remember,” says Kala. “This is Lito’s big night. No one is allowed to be rude, disruptive, loud, drunk--”

“Okay, Mom,” Sun and Wolfgang say in unison.

Kala huffs like a disgruntled cat and folds her arms.

“Don’t worry,” Will says kindly. “I’ll help you keep everyone in line, Kala.”

“As if,” murmurs Sun.

“Never listened to cops in my life, not starting now,” adds Wolfgang.

Will shakes his head. “This cop saved your ungrateful ass last summer.”

Wolfgang grins. The elevator doors open and they step into the white marble lobby of the hotel, towards the awning outside where a black limo is waiting.

“This was too nice of Lito,” Kala whispers to Wolfgang, bursting. “I’ve never ridden in a limo in my life.” She squeals as they approach it. “Ooh, I want a picture, Riley will you take a picture of us please?”

“No,” groans Wolfgang.

“Oh yes,” says Kala firmly, passing her phone to Riley. “I want to make my sister so jealous her head explodes.”

Wolfgang snorts. Kala pulls him next to her by the limo and scrutinizes him. Then she wets her fingertips in her mouth and uses the moisture to fix his hair. He wrinkles his nose.

“Why are you putting spit in my hair?” he murmurs.

“It’s just spit, Wolfgang.”

“Well, I don’t want spit in my hair.”

“Well, I don’t have hair gel in my purse.”

Sun rolls her eyes. “Take the picture!”

Kala smiles blazingly and nudges Wolfgang to do the same. He manages a simple, small smile. Then Kala asks for another picture and kisses his cheek hard just as the camera flashes. He laughs and Riley beams.

“That one is adorable,” Riley says fondly.

“Let’s go,” says Sun.

“You’re just moody because you miss Kwon-ho,” Kala says to her as they get into the limo.

“Kwon-ho has texted me _eleven_ times today,” says Sun through gritted teeth.

“You love him,” Kala sing-songs.

Sun raises a menacing eyebrow and Kala shrinks closer to Wolfgang, frowning in concern. The rest of the Cluster gets into the limo, which features a full bar and a miniature dance floor. The driver glances at the eight of them, plus Felix, and simply rolls up the partition as if sensing they’re trouble.

“Fuck yeah!” Felix says approvingly, pulling a bottle of vodka from the bar. “Liquid courage.”

“Don’t overdo it,” says Wolfgang.

Felix nods. “I’ll pace myself. Wanna get to that...confident but not sloppy stage.”

Wolfgang eyes him. “So...two drinks.”

Felix scoffs at Kala. “Is he this bossy with you?”

“Only when I want him to be,” says Kala with a defiant smirk.

Felix nods, unscrewing the cap. “Gross. Gonna drink that image away now.”

Kala laughs and leans back in one of the plush seats. Felix pours her a glass of champagne, Wolfgang asks for one too, and soon the entire Cluster is sipping champagne and laughing on the sunny drive to the Dolby Theatre. Riley selects a playlist and blares it from her phone. Traffic is predictably terrible, so they spend the time listening to Felix make award predictions and singing along to guilty pleasure songs like _Hey Ya!_

Kala takes several videos and sends them to Daya, adding captions like “champagne in a limo, na na na na na na” with multiple sassy emojis.

After nearly an hour in Los Angeles traffic, the limo pulls up alongside the theatre. Kala makes a high-pitched whining noise in her throat, pressing close to the window to see out. Wolfgang glances at her.

“Breathe,” he says, laughing.

“I’m too excited to breathe,” she replies.

He shakes his head, glancing at Sun, who shrugs. The driver exits the limo and opens the door for them, and they get out one by one, Felix first, brandishing his bottle of vodka and shouting, “Hello, Los Angeles! I have arrived!”

“I think he had more than two,” murmurs Kala as she shuffles along the seats to reach the door.

Wolfgang helps her out of the limo and she blinks in the sunshine, grinning. Then they look to the left, where there is a backdoor into the theatre, surrounded by security. Dani comes through it, holding her heels in her hand so she can run, and reaches them all, beaming. She’s wearing a sapphire blue, floor-length gown with a deep neckline, lined with black silk. Felix drops the vodka he’s holding and the bottle cracks on the concrete.

“Ah, you all look beautiful!” she shouts breathlessly. “Hurry, come inside, the party is starting and Lito is so nervous to walk the red carpet, he needs all of you...” She shakes her head and adds, “He’s crying again.”

Then she pauses and looks at Felix, who is standing in a growing pool of vodka. She bursts out laughing and throws her arms around him, her heels conking him on the back of the head. She gasps and quickly pets his hair. “Shit! Did that hurt? I’m sorry! I’m so drunk already!”

He shakes his head, laughing hard. “It’s fine, I am too! Fuck, I’m so relieved you’re drunk!”

“Me too,” she sighs. “I missed you!”

They look at each other for a moment, then let each other go when they feel the others watching. Wolfgang and Kala exchange a small, proud smirk, then follow Dani towards the door with the rest of their Cluster. She guides them down a hallway into a large reception room, which is decorated lavishly with chandeliers, roses, and overlarge Oscar figurines. Kala takes a deep breath, eyes flashing, hands trembling.

“Oh my God, Wolfgang, everyone here is famous, our Lito is famous, this is so exciting.” Then her eyes widen, she elbows Wolfgang violently, and she hisses, “That is _Beyonce_.”

“Ow,” responds Wolfgang, rubbing his side.

“Oh my God,” breathes Kala. “I...I can’t believe… should I…” She shakes her head. “No. I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

Before she can debate any more, Hernando, Estella, and Blake Huntington appear, drinks in hand.

“Lito mentioned he was inviting his closest friends,” says Blake. “He must have a lot of closest friends.”

Hernando grins. “Hello, everyone, it’s good to see all of your faces.”

“Good to see you all again!” adds Estella.

“Where is my Best Supporting Actor nominee?” says a new voice -- Kit Wrangler, stopping by with a large strawberry margarita spilling over his hand.

“Crying,” fills in Blake. “In the bathroom.”

Kit sighs deeply. “Of course he is, this is an emotional day.” Then he looks at the nine newcomers, beginning to smirk. “Lito’s friends are quite good looking, do you agree Blake?”

“They are, yes,” he agrees, adding an extra smile at Kala.

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows and clears his throat. Kala looks at him with wide, horrified eyes and mouths _that’s Blake Huntington!_  Wolfgang shrugs, unconcerned by this.

“We made quite the exception for you,” says Kit. “Nine guests. Unheard of! But it seems the exception was worth it…” He glances at Will. “Are you single?”

“Wow, no,” says Will.

Kit sighs, flapping a hand at him. “Of course you aren’t.”

“Mr. Wrangler,” says Hernando. “Please, at least try to be appropriate.”

“I have had far too many of these to be appropriate,” says Kit, raising his margarita in the air. “Now, please, find your boyfriend. He can’t walk the carpet with red eyes.” He pats Hernando’s shoulder, then walks off in another direction, calling, “Leonardo, what an awful tux!” at a harried Leonardo Dicaprio.

“Sorry about Kit,” says Blake. “He’s terrible. But undeniably successful.”

Hernando rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I cannot express how happy I will be when this is over.”

The Cluster chuckles, patting Hernando’s arms and nudging him encouragingly. He sighs, glancing at Dani.

“We should find Lito,” he says.

She nods in agreement, going with him across the room. The others disperse, wandering around the reception room, gasping and pointing at A-listers. Kala trips over her heels when she sees Shah Rukh Khan, plunging precipitously towards a server with a tray of mimosas. Wolfgang catches her and looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“I -- I have to say hello -- he -- Wolfgang -- he’s my favorite,” She pauses to gasp a breath. “He was in all my favorite movies. Lito mentioned him but I completely forgot! I forgot he did a film in America this year...oh my God! Oh my God. Wolfgang. Oh my God. It’s really him. He’s real. Look at his face. I want to squeeze his face.”

Wolfgang looks at her expressionlessly for a moment, then breaks into a tiny grin. He pulls her closer and kisses her softly, squeezing her waist, taking a moment afterward to nuzzle her nose. She grins cheerfully and lets out a quiet laugh.

“You’re sweet,” she murmurs.

“You ramble when you’re excited.”

She nods, kissing him quickly again. “I do. Okay. I’m going to go ask for an autograph.”

“Don’t fall,” he murmurs.

She looks over her shoulder at him with dark, annoyed eyes. “Oh, as if--” Then she stumbles slightly, turns bright pink, and focuses on her walking.

Wolfgang watches her approach the Bollywood star, tugging on her curls and tilting her head often while they talk, gesturing too much, laughing too much. He smiles softly and accepts a glass of beer from a passing attendant, then feels Will and Riley at his side.

He glances at them, then back at Kala. “I’ve never seen her this excited.”

Riley smiles gently. “I’m happy for you. The rest of your lives will be so good.”

Wolfgang nods, then murmurs, “Unless--”

Will raises his eyebrows at Wolfgang. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“But that’s what I do,” says Wolfgang after a pause, sipping his beer.

Will shakes his head, laughing, and nudges Wolfgang’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you happy, okay?”

Wolfgang nods.

“Seriously,” Will goes on, adding, “Kala too. You didn’t see her before we found you.”

Wolfgang nods again, eyes fixed on her. “She’s told me what it was like.”

Will breathes out and they both watch her as she puts a hand to her heart, throws her head back and laughs, and starts to speak rapidly about something. Felix appears, his arm latched with Dani’s, and they glance in Kala’s direction as they sip their drinks.

“I think she’s flirting with him,” says Dani with a wry smirk.

Will nods, laughing. “She definitely is.”

But Wolfgang grins softly and shakes his head. “She’s not flirting, she’s nervous. She can’t believe he’s talking to her.”

Riley bites her bottom lip playfully and points as the actor lightly touches Kala’s wrist and nods in the direction of the bar. “Well, _he’s_ flirting.”

Felix glances at Wolfgang. “Remember Wolfie, it’s hard to hide a body at an Oscars party.”

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows defiantly and sips his beer.

“Is it true you broke someone’s arm because he was flirting with her?” whispers Riley.

“No, I broke his arm because he touched her without her permission,” says Wolfgang.

Will nods. “Good.”

Riley sips her drink. “You can’t be trusted at parties.” She shakes her head in amusement. “What did Kala say after that?”

Wolfgang drinks his beer and doesn’t reply. Will glances at him, then at Riley.

“I don’t think they did a lot of talking after that,” he says.

Riley grins at him. “I don’t think they did.”

Wolfgang creases his brow and looks sideways at them, irritated. They look jovially back at him, unflustered.

“Wolfgang, we’re a Cluster,” says Riley, as if talking to a child. “Did you know that? We know everything about each other. You can’t hide your sex life from us.”

“It’s nice you found a woman who gets turned on by your anger issues,” adds Will.

“You two done?” asks Wolfgang.

Riley nods, pleased with herself, and Will grins insolently. Wolfgang gives a small, amused smirk and drinks his beer. Then Kala appears from the crowd, clutching the notebook she brought for autographs, a pink drink in her hand. Her eyes are bright and she’s fanning herself.

“Oh my God do you know who got me this drink?”

“Shah Rukh Khan?” Wolfgang guesses.

“He did!” she squeals. “Daya is going to faint. I even got a picture.” She smirks, sipping her drink. “I believe he may have been flirting…”

“He definitely was,” says Riley.

Kala frowns. “I believe he’s married.” She tilts her head. “But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that even the most disciplined people are capable of having an affair.” She points at herself. “Exhibit A.”

Wolfgang snorts, puts an arm around her waist, and kisses the side of her head. She softens, turning to kiss him.

“You want to have an affair with him?” he asks.

“Constantly,” she murmurs, kissing him again.

He chuckles, sliding his hands over her ass, and she tilts her head, accepting another, more intense kiss. He squeezes her ass and she grins against his lips. Will and Riley exchange a glance and sip their drinks with raised eyebrows.

“Stop!” groans Felix.

Wolfgang pulls away and glances at him. “Stop looking.”

“That’s like asking me to stop watching a car accident!” protests Felix.

“It’s...not,” says Wolfgang.

Felix shakes his head and turns away. They continue to kiss, pulling away occasionally to smile at each other. Kala, warm and slightly tingly from the drinks, puts her arms around his neck and presses her body close to his, focusing on the slight brush of his stubble, threatening to melt into a mess of want when he moves his hands down the tops of her thighs.

“This is why we needed an extra day,” she finally murmurs. “I wanted to spend the first day alone with you.”

“Ugh,” says Felix, stepping further away to be out of hearing distance.

Riley simply smirks, shaking her head and sipping some wine.

Wolfgang nods and Kala tips her head back, smiling distantly. “Whenever I wear something you pick for me I…” She trails off, blushing. “I just think about you taking it off of me.”

He breathes in, his lips twitching. He trails his fingers up her spine, then furtively down the front of her body. She breathes in too, trembling slightly.

They’re about to continue, but Sun approaches them, shaking her head bitterly.

“Stop kissing,” she says. “It’s Lito. He won’t come out of the bathroom unless we talk to him. You and me, Wolfgang.”

Wolfgang squints, relaxing his grip on Kala but keeping her close in his arms. “Why?”

She rolls her eyes. “He says we have soothing energy.”

“Soothing energy…” murmurs Wolfgang. “The fuck is he talking about?”  
  
“You do,” says Kala, booping Wolfgang on the nose.   
  
He looks at her with wide eyes. She frowns at herself, wondering if she should have refused the second watermelon margarita.

Sun shakes her head and takes Wolfgang’s arm. “Let’s go.”  
  
“No,” whines Kala, clinging.  
  
“Fine, come with us,” says Sun, pulling on her arm so she hurries, adding in a grumble, “drunk people are annoying.”  
  
“I’m not drunk,” laughs Kala.  
  
“You just made out with Wolfgang in front of people,” Sun points out.   
  
Kala hums in concession. “I did.”

Wolfgang kisses the side of her head and pats her hip to reassure her. She covers her face and laughs, embarrassed, planning to apologize later.

They walk towards one of the exits. Sun takes a glass of wine from one of the servers, downs it in one swig, and hands it back to the same server. Wolfgang glances at her.

“I hate parties,” she says in explanation. “Someone asked me if I’m the lady from _Fresh Off the Boat_. Soon someone will mistake you for Chris Hemsworth…”

“Who’s that?” he asks as they round a corner to the bathrooms.

“You know,” she says with a sigh. “The hot Australian man. Thor.” She shakes her head. “Kwon-ho likes Marvel. I’ll kill him soon, I swear.”

They continue towards the bathroom. Sun glances at the “men” sign on the door in annoyance, then pushes it open and tosses her hair away from her face.

“Lito!” she yells.

There’s a whimper from the end stall, followed by a strangled, grateful, “You came!”

Sun breathes out and exchanges an exhausted glance with Wolfgang.

“It’s just the red carpet,” she says, leaning on one of the stalls. “You love the red carpet.”

“Hernando will be there with you,” adds Wolfgang.

A sob.

“Why are you crying?” asks Wolfgang.

“I’m so happy,” says Lito, adding after a loud sniffle, “but so scared. I have never walked a red carpet like this. The entire world is watching.”

“Everyone loves you!” calls Kala. “All the reviews liked you even more than Blake.”

“Don’t jinx it!” cries Lito, adding, “What if I smile the wrong way?”

“What?” asks Wolfgang, irritated. “What do you mean?”

“I have my carpet smile, my promo smile, my afterparty smile--”

“Lito!” groans Sun. “It’s just a smile!”

“And you’re so handsome Lito, you’ve never taken a bad picture in your life!” says Kala encouragingly.

“No!” shouts Lito. “I feel so bloated today! And my eyes! My eyes are red!”

“Then stop crying!” Sun and Wolfgang say together.

He continues crying.  
  
“You can’t just tell someone who’s crying to stop crying,” says Kala, tossing her hair over one shoulder and rolling her eyes. “Lito, I understand how you’re feeling and you have every reason to cry, it’s a very emotional time for all of us. We’re so proud of you.”  
  
Sun and Wolfgang glance at each other as Lito’s crying subsides.  
  
“You’re proud of me?” squeaks Lito.  
  
“So proud!” says Kala. “You deserve all of the love you’ve gotten, Lito! And think, you get to walk the red carpet with Hernando. How long have you dreamed of that?”  
  
“You’re...you’re right.”   
  
The lock of the stall clicks and Lito steps out, his tie undone and his face wet. Kala beams at him and takes his face in her hands.   
  
“You’re going to be fine.”  
  
“I am,” says Lito confidently. “I am strong. I have my Hernando.”  
  
Kala nods, smiling warmly. Lito sniffles and wipes his face as she fixes his tie for him. Then the door opens behind them and a handsome, disgruntled actor walks in. He pauses in the doorway, then points to the sign.   
  
“This is the men’s room,” he says.  
  
“It’s 2018, fuck off,” says Wolfgang.  
  
The man rolls his eyes and comes in, heading for one of the urinals. He stops, looking at Sun and Kala, who glare defiantly.  
  
“What?” asks Sun. “Do you have something to be embarrassed about?”  
  
The man groans. “I’ll wait.” Then he looks at Lito, who is sniffling. “I think you got confused. You should be in the ladies room.”  
  
Wolfgang glances at him. “What did you say?”  
  
The man holds his hands up. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll go to another bathroom while you people sing Kumbaya in here.” He heads for the door, but turns to look at Lito. “By the way, if you win tonight, it will be because the Oscars are trying to seem diverse. If you ask me, they’ll give it to the faggiest person available, and oh look, that’s you--”  
  
Sun and Wolfgang move at the same time, which is an unfortunate combination for the man, who takes the full force of Sun’s chest-height kick and Wolfgang’s punch. He smashes into the urinals behind him, disheveled, eyes wide.   
  
“What the fuck?” he says in alarm, nose bleeding freely.  
  
“Leave,” says Sun.  
  
He nods rapidly, wincing, and limps out of the restroom. Lito stares gratefully at Wolfgang and Sun, chest heaving. Kala stares too, but not out of gratitude. She holds her breath for a moment, mind on fire, then primly crosses the bathroom to Wolfgang. She touches Wolfgang’s shoulder and brings him close, then thumbs over his temples to calm him down.   
  
Then she swallows, pulling her hands down his chest.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” she murmurs.

Half his mouth jumps in a smile. “I know.”

She pulls her fingertips over his lips. “I like it.” Then she blinks, pressing closer, the urge to be with him almost undeniable. “I like watching you put people in their place. Is that bad?”

“Maybe,” he says, sliding his hand down her leg, toying with the hem of her dress so it teases her skin.

The tone of his voice sends a hot chill down her legs and her mouth waters.

“Mm,” she says, pressing closer and touching her nose against his. “I wish we were at home watching the ceremony so we could...make the time go faster.”

“If you’re going to have sex, we’ll leave,” says Sun tersely.

Kala quietly clears her throat and steps away. “ _No_ , we aren’t.”

She takes Wolfgang’s hand and starts toward the door. Lito chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face.

“If you move to Los Angeles,” he tells Wolfgang and Sun. “I will hire you as my bodyguards.”

By the time they reach the reception room, the stars have begun filing outside towards the carpet. Hernando, near the door, is in a state of agitation, pushing his glasses up his nose and conversing nervously with Kit, Blake, Dani, and Felix.

“There you are!” sighs Hernando, pulling Lito into his arms. “Are you ready, my love? We should have been out there ten minutes ago!”

Lito nods, then yells _bah bah!_ drawing stares from several nearby onlookers. He blushes slightly, but goes towards the door with Hernando, followed by Kit, Dani, and Blake. Felix hangs back, looking disappointed.

“I want to walk the red carpet,” he mumbles, glancing at Wolfgang.

“Marry Dani and you can be her plus-one like Hernando and Lito,” suggests Kala.

Felix finishes the rest of his drink hastily. “I can’t think about things like that, I’ll fucking blurt it all out later...one more drink and I’d get down on my knees and ask her.”

“Do not do that,” says Wolfgang.

“I’ll try not to, she’s perfect, Wolfie,” groans Felix. “And I don’t mean superficially! Her heart. Her heart’s fucking perfect and she’s funny and she can outdrink me. I love her.”

“You should tell her that,” Kala says affectionately, pulling a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

“You should not tell her that!” says Wolfgang, almost laughing. He shakes his head slightly and puts an arm around both of their waists. “Why do you two act like this when you drink?

“We have to be bubbly drunks to counteract you,” says Kala. “You’re a broody drunk.”

Felix hiccups. “Yeah, except if we’re drinking to counteract his drinking, by the time he’s actually drunk we’d be like...fucking passed out. I once saw him drink an entire fifth of Stoli…”

Wolfgang smirks darkly and nods. Kala slides her hand up his side and pats the top of his stomach, where his liver is.

“Your poor liver,” she says, then leans and kisses him where her hand was. “You deserve better, liver.”

Wolfgang covers his face and laughs. “Kala, for fuck’s sake…”

She grins, then squeezes his hand affectionately and nods in the direction of the red carpet. “We should visit. I want to see what he’s seeing.”

He nods, pulling her closer. They glance at each other, then reach out to Lito, finding themselves suddenly immersed in sunlight and camera flashes. They see through Lito’s eyes for a moment, bursting with pride and nervous energy, and blink at the flashes, the glare of the sun, the buzz of paparazzi and chatter amongst the interviewers. Then they look at him as if next to him, and Kala sniffles at the sight of him hand-in-hand with Hernando and Dani.

“They deserve this so much,” she murmurs, leaning her head on Wolfgang’s shoulder.

He nods, smiling faintly.

“I relied on Lito when I was first married to Rajan,” she goes on quietly. “He taught me how to love what I was insecure about in myself. And how to tell when Rajan was lying.” She pauses, laughing gently. “Once he showed up while Rajan was trying to explain a security concern to me, and he kept telling me he was lying. While he ate popcorn.”

Wolfgang grins and squeezes her waist.

“I’m surprised you weren’t that person for me,” she adds softly.

He glances at her. “Would you have trusted me?”

She frowns. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“You wouldn’t have worried I was telling you those things just so you…”

“Left him?” she asks, shaking her head. “No. I would have trusted you. I always have.”

He hums in thought. “Why?”

“Because you’ve never lied to me,” she murmurs, taking both of his hands. “You always tell me what I need to hear. Not what I want to.”

He nods, smiling distantly. “Good.”

She smiles back, and the red carpet fades. They return in their minds to the party, where they see Felix looking at them, disconcerted.

“Visiting is fucking weird,” he says, shaking his head.

They chuckle together, then bump noses and finally let each other go. Wolfgang goes in search of two more drinks, and Kala glances at Felix.

“I’m sorry we kiss so much in front of you.”

He laughs. “Your kids will hate you.”

She nods. “They will.” Then she smiles. “Have you tried any Spanish with Dani yet?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I’m waiting for the afterparty. I’m going to ask her to dance.”

Kala nods, smiling wider. Then she leans in. “If you ask me, you are perfect for each other. Both exuberant, and spontaneous, movie lovers, romantic...you could be very good for each other.”

He smiles halfheartedly. “Yeah. She’s too pretty for me though.”

“Felix, the way she hugged you earlier?” Kala clicks her teeth. “I know that hug. I’ve only ever hugged Wolfgang like that.”

Felix squints at her. “Really?”

“Yes. When women hug men we aren’t interested in, we guard our bodies more. We’re less open. Because a hug is quite intimate if you think about it because your…” She trails off, considering, then gestures vaguely at her chest. “See, _these_ , are rather involved.”

Sun snorts nearby, continuing to drink wine, happy to be entertained by the trainwreck that Kala, Felix, and alcohol generally becomes.

Felix drinks, then gestures sloppily with his glass. “But she’s more...more relaxed than you!”

“Yes, but still,” says Kala. “That was a take-me-to-bed hug.” She frowns at herself, then at the glass in her hand. “I still don’t have much tolerance for this, do I? Maybe I should have eaten dinner, but this dress is so tight already...”

“You don’t have the practice like Wolfie and me. We’ve been drinking since age ten.”

Kala sighs at this. Then she catches sight of Wolfgang, coming through the crowd with two drinks in his hands. She stares at the fabric catching on his biceps and clinging to his chest and bites her lip, eyes lingering slightly south of his belt. Then she breathes in. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Sun shakes her head. “You have a problem.”

“You do,” agrees Felix.

“I know,” she sighs, briefly covering her face.

Wolfgang stops in the crowd to talk to Capheus and Nomi. Kala tuts impatiently, tapping her foot. When he finally reaches her, he presses a glass of water into her hand and gives another one to Felix.

“Drink all of that,” he says.

“Killjoy,” murmurs Kala.

“You two are like children,” he tells her.

She glances up from sipping her water and looks at him blankly. Then she sticks her tongue out and he hangs his head, laughing. She grins, finishing the water, and he pulls her into a loose, affectionate hug. They stay like this for a while, touching noses occasionally and playing with each other’s hands. Felix loses interest in waiting for them to stop staring at each other and wanders to the bar. Lito, Dani, and Hernando return from the red carpet, flushed and beaming, and Kala and Wolfgang finally release each other and join the Cluster as everyone prepares to leave the reception room and go into the theatre.

Lito shakes his arms out, still nervous, and leads the group into the hall and toward the theatre.

Once inside, Dani, Hernando, Estella, and Lito take their reserved seats near the front. Felix looks longingly after them, hesitating to go into the row with the Cluster, which is farther back. Just as he’s stepped into the row, he notices Dani get up in the front and walk back up the aisle. He blinks when she takes his hand and tugs him towards the front.

“I told Emma Stone I would rip her dress if she didn’t give up her seat,” says Dani.

Felix stares. “I -- I get to sit -- with you? Up front?”

“Yeah, silly,” she says. “You’re the guest of honor. Your rambling excited voicemails are pretty much the only thing that got Lito through the post-production process.”

He continues to stare. “Really?”

“Yes,” she says, laughing. “You’re family tonight. Besides, I need someone to complain to when the announcers make vacuous comments about diversity.”

Felix looks over his shoulder at Wolfgang, who smiles warmly and nods at him. Felix grins and squeezes Dani’s hand. Wolfgang glances down, smiling wider, and then looks at Kala, who puts a hand briefly on her heart, eyes crinkling affectionately. They laugh quietly together and take their seats. Kala leans her head on Wolfgang’s shoulder, sleepy but enthused.

Three hours pass slowly with overlong acceptance speeches, questionable musical performances, obnoxious puns, and impassioned rants about the current leadership of the United States.

“Could one day pass where I don’t hear the word Trump?” asks Nomi.

Wolfgang’s lips twitch in dark amusement. “Told you he would win, told you not to underestimate how many stupid fucks live here.”

Nomi sighs. “If we hadn’t been so busy fighting BPO, I would have been more of an activist. I would have hacked the election.”

“Be an activist now,” Capheus says cheerfully.

Nomi groans and shakes her head. She’s about to speak again, but two new announcers walk out on the stage, and Lito’s category flashes on the large screen behind them. The Cluster takes a collective breath. Everyone holds hands, except for Wolfgang. Will looks at him, rolling his eyes, and grabs his hand. He laughs quietly, reaching for Kala’s hand as well.

No one speaks while the nominees are introduced and the clips of their movies are played. Kala leans her head gently on Wolfgang’s shoulder during Lito’s clip and quietly _aw_ s. Then the announcers hold up the envelope and begin to open it.

Kala leans forward and digs her nails into Wolfgang and Riley’s hands as the announcers look at the result. They all share Lito’s overwrought heartbeat for the fraction of a second before one of the announcers speaks.

“And the Oscar goes to Lito Rodriguez!”

The Cluster explodes, cheering and clapping, all getting to their feet and earning disgruntled looks from the crowd. Kala fans herself, tears in her eyes, and kisses Wolfgang enthusiastically. Then she hugs Riley, who squeezes her tightly, laughing. Will grabs Wolfgang by the shoulders and kisses his cheek and Wolfgang leans his head back, laughing loudly.

“Go Lito!” shouts Capheus, pumping his fist in the air.

“We love you, Lito!” echoes Nomi, cupping her hands around her mouth and whooping.

They watch a dazed Lito make his way to the stage amid the applause. He rubs a hand slowly down his face as he reaches the microphone and shakily accepts the Oscar from the announcer holding it.

He takes his speech out of his suit pocket and holds it up. “I had some remarks prepared, but I would rather speak from my heart.” He puts the paper back into his pocket and takes a breath. “Iberian Dreams would never have been possible without São Paulo...I was living a lie, I was deeply ashamed, and I wished more than anything for more bravery. But my family taught me that bravery was not what I needed. It was love. I needed to love myself, and to love everyone like me, to accomplish anything that mattered.” He looks into the crowd. “Hernando, Dani, you are my heart.” He holds his Oscar up. “Dani, Hernando, mama, I love you, thank you.” He looks up at the Cluster. “My family, thank you. This is for you. “

In the audience, Kala leans against Wolfgang, openly crying. He hugs her from the side and kisses her temple. The others in the Cluster all hold on to each other, many sniffling. Lito wraps up by quickly thanking his co-stars, producer, and crew, then walks off stage. His enthusiasm and elation is contagious and warmth bubbles over in the Cluster as they take their seats again, all pressing close to whisper, wiping away tears. 

***

At three a.m., the city is still alive with activity, light and sound bouncing off the marina water. As soon as the Oscars wrapped, Kit Wrangler invited everyone to the party on his boat and despite being exhausted, the Cluster agreed.

When they arrived at the massive yacht in Marina Del Rey, they were served a lush dinner. Kala nearly cried she was so relieved to have food in her stomach. She ate two slices of chocolate cake afterward and had several cups of coffee, and for an hour, was wide awake. She egged on Felix, Dani, and Wolfgang in a drinking competition, and then they bullied her into joining them. She and Dani, sloppy after eight and three tequilas respectively, challenged the men to a dance-off. Kala showed off her dancing ability, grinning. Blake Huntington asked if he could get her a drink, Wolfgang told him where he could stick that drink, and Kit hurriedly pulled Blake away from the situation.  
  
Lito and Hernando watched this interaction, barely able to contain laughter, and changed playlists so that no more dance-offs could occur.

Now, Kala finds herself dancing slowly with Wolfgang on the deck of the yacht, her head resting on his chest, eyes closed as the music pulses and waitresses whirl around with platters of bright blue cocktails. She listens sleepily to the distant conversation between Lito, Dani, Felix, and Capheus, then nuzzles her nose against Wolfgang and smiles faintly. He moves his hand up her spine and tilts his head down, swimming in the jasmine fragrance of her hair.

She lifts her gaze and blinks at him. She searches for something romantic to say, but she hasn’t been up this late in months and can’t think of anything, so she says, “My feet hurt.”

He glances at her shoes. “Are you surprised?”

“No, I knew what I was getting into,” she says, nodding.

He chuckles, touching his nose to her forehead. She smiles to herself, the breeze off the water catching the fabric of her dress, and breathes in deeply. He adjusts his hands on her waist and she smiles wider, meeting his eyes.

“I love the way you touch me,” she says softly.

His lips soften slightly and his eyes brighten. He slides a hand up her back. “Yeah?”

She nods solemnly. “I can’t describe it.” She glances down, mouth quirking as she finds the words. “You’re so careful but you...know what you want.” She meets his eyes again. “Tonight was nice.”

He nods and kisses her. She grins against his lips before kissing him back in earnest, arms around his neck, one foot lifted behind her. Their figures reflect in the water below, wavering as the swells move towards the beach. Riley and Will glance at them from across the boat and share a quick smile.

Kala pulls away but stays close, her nose resting on his. They sway together, listening to the gentle waves and looking into each other’s eyes. Then Kala smiles.

“Wolfgang?”

“Süße?”

She beams. “My feet hurt, and there is a therapeutic ocean right there.”

He raises an eyebrow. She wrinkles her nose wickedly, then lets go of him and wanders down the deck towards the back of the yacht. He follows her quickly, concerned. When she reaches the end of the boat, she tosses her shoes to the side, sits down, and thrusts her feet into the water. Wolfgang looks at her for a moment without reacting, then grins hard and sits next to her, cross-legged so he doesn’t get wet. She glances at him.

“I’ve never seen you sit like that.”

He nods. “I don’t like it.”

She laughs, leaning against him. She kicks her feet in the water for a moment, and then, more spontaneous than she typically is due to the exhaustion, adrenaline, and tequila, she jumps to her feet and unzips her dress.

“What are you--”

She throws the dress aside, steps back a few feet, and takes a flying leap into the water.

“--doing?” Wolfgang finishes dully, stunned.

He stares, then hops to his feet and quickly undoes his tie, strips off his jacket, shirt, and shoes. He watches Kala bob playfully in the water as he takes off his pants. She splashes him, grinning, and he jumps off the back of the boat to join her. She swims away from him, dunking her head underneath, but he pulls her back by her ankle. She puts her legs around his waist, staying close, and he meets her eyes. He doesn’t speak for a moment, thumbing over her thigh.

Then he murmurs, “So glad I’m marrying you.”

She grins, considering how to respond. Then she leans forward and presses a swift, tender kiss to his mouth. He smiles.

“I’m glad I’m marrying you, too,” she whispers.

He kisses her quickly, then pulls her under the water and she kicks him hard, coming up and sputtering. She smacks his arm while he laughs richly.

“You’re terrible!” she hisses.

He nods, moving a sopping strand of her hair out of her face. She softens at the gesture and nuzzles against him. He thumbs over her cheek.

“No one makes me happier than you,” he says quietly.

She smiles indulgently and squeezes his shoulders, breathing in to steady herself.

“I mean it,” he goes on. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She shakes her head slowly. “You’ll make me cry.”

He brushes a droplet of water off her chin, then holds her closer under the water.

“I’ve never been able to tell anyone how I feel except you,” he says.

She nods. “I haven’t been able to either. Only you.”

They smile gently at each other, drifting in the reflection of the lantern lights strung on the deck of the yacht. She stretches her legs into the current, then leans her head back. He watches the water gather in beads on her chest and her neck and carefully kisses the notch in her collarbone. Her hands tighten on his shoulders at the sensation and she smiles, flying, floating. She shuts her eyes for a moment, letting the water lift her, and then she pulls herself up, close to him again.

She kisses him, then pulls away, laughing.

“I jumped in the ocean,” she says.

“You did,” he replies.

She covers her face. “Oh, Ganesha.”

He grins. “I love you like this.”

She looks through her fingers. “You do?”

“Yeah, you’ve hidden this all your life,” he replies.

“Yes, I met you and all the irresponsibility surfaced.”

He nods. “I tend to have that effect on women.”

She shoves him, laughing hard. Then he grins softly and kisses her, and she melts into him for a few sublime moments, until she’s startled by a voice.

“What the fuck?”

It’s Felix, standing at the stern of the yacht, staring.

“We…” Kala trails off.

Felix gestures at their discarded clothes. “Seriously?”

“We’re not naked,” says Kala.

“Almost,” adds Wolfgang.

She nods. “Almost.”

Felix stares for another moment, then shakes his head, deciding not to get involved. He throws back the rest of the drink he has in his hand and continues to the other side of the yacht.

Wolfgang and Kala look at each other impassively for a second, then burst out laughing and press closer, nuzzling their noses.

“Poor Felix,” murmurs Kala.

Wolfgang laughs harder. “I know.”

They chuckle together for a moment, and then Kala softens and kisses him.

“Do you want to get out?” she asks, moving her thumbs over his temples.

He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Good,” she agrees, kicking her feet gently and moving them farther into the ocean.


	32. March 31, 1:42 p.m

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang travel to a memorable part of town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bangs cymbals* It's angst time!

Wolfgang slides underneath his car, wrinkling his nose and clenching a flashlight in his left hand. He glances beyond the steaming engine at Felix.

"Can you see anything?" he asks.

Felix shakes his head. Kala stands on the curb, arms folded, watching them as they examine the underbelly of the old gray car. She bites her bottom lip and presses closer.

"Do you know what's wrong with it?" she calls hopefully.

"It's a transmission issue," says Capheus, visiting them. "You should probably buy a new car."

Kala sighs, lips twitching in concern as she calculates their latest paychecks against rent and groceries.

"God damn it, shit," murmurs Wolfgang, oil dripping onto his face under the car.

Kala nods politely at a family passing them on the sidewalk, then nudges Wolfgang's knee with her hand.

"You are in public, you know..."

"Shit," he repeats, glancing underneath the car at Felix, who shakes his head.

"Transmission?" guesses Felix.

Wolfgang nods, shifting from underneath the car, wiping the oil from his face, and walking to pop the hood. Kala watches in interest, relieved that the car broke down near their apartment, instead of on one of their weekend ventures into the country. She steps near Wolfgang, the sun shifting through the buildings to illuminate her, and she squints at the mechanisms under the hood. Capheus joins them and Wolfgang looks at him for guidance. Capheus shakes his head gently.

"I'm sorry to say," he says heavily, "but this isn't worth saving."

"I've had this since I was eighteen," mumbles Wolfgang.

"It's old, and the transmission will cost about as much as a used car," advises Capheus. "Or so Jela says."

Wolfgang nods, patting the metal frame on the side of the car. "Okay."

He takes his phone out of his pocket and begins to search for a new car, Felix and Capheus gathered close. They point out cars that interest them and Kala watches, and after only five minutes, Wolfgang nods and pockets his phone.

"Found one," he says, touching her shoulder and directing her down the street.

She frowns slightly, holding the groceries they went out to buy, and meets his eyes. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "It's cheap enough."

"No," she says gently. "Are you sure this car is broken? We had our first kiss in this car..."

They turn together, looking at the car. He slides his hand down her waist and squeezes her hip.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he says quietly.

Kala hums in thought, then sets the groceries down and walks to the car. She kisses the driver's side window, then returns to Wolfgang, who is smiling, charmed. She smiles with plum-colored lips, a sparkle in her dark eyes. He kisses her quickly and they wait for Felix to catch up with them. They walk to their apartment. Wolfgang calls the dealership in Marzahn while Kala puts the groceries away, offering Felix a beer. She chats with him for a moment while she puts rice into a slow cooker, and then she glances at Wolfgang as he sets his phone aside.

"Want to come with me?" he asks.

She looks at her watch and nods. "Yes. Marzahn, how far is that?"

Felix blinks, looking up as he sips his beer. "Marzahn? You're getting a car in fucking Marzahn?"

Kala glances at him. "What's wrong with Marzahn?"

"He grew up there," explains Felix before Wolfgang can deflect.

Kala holds still, then nods carefully. "Yes. Okay."

Wolfgang watches her as she puts away a carton of eggs, noticing that her muscles have stiffened slightly, experiencing his own reluctance. He glances at Felix to communicate he should finish his beer and leave, and Felix nods, glugging the last, foamy inch of amber liquid and setting his glass near the sink. He squeezes Wolfgang's shoulder and gives Kala a brief hug, then says goodbye. Wolfgang looks at Kala as the front door shuts.

"We don't have to visit the apartment where you grew up," she assures him, although she's curious. "We can just buy the car."

He nods, soothing himself with the sight of her -- a pink and orange sundress, her hair done up in braids, a softness in her wrists and her cheeks, a willingness to listen. He holds his hand out and takes hers, and they look together at their intertwined fingers, a familiar image; it brings back a muggy night in a Mumbai art gallery. Kala smiles faintly and reaches for his other hand.

He smiles too, then closes the space between them and touches his nose to hers.

"Let's go," he murmurs after a moment like this.

She nods, taking her purse off a chair in the kitchen.

She walks in front of him and he takes in the gentle dip of her shoulder and the way her hips move as she walks. He breathes in, a hand on her waist as he follows her through the door, and she glances over her shoulder with a smile; he studies her profile and the soft confidence on her lips. Despite the pliancy of her body under his touch, he finds strength in her slender frame every day and it terrifies him to consider a life without her constant presence.

She turns in the doorway, her eyes finding his with a steady smile. She tugs him through the door and locks it, then leans against him as they walk down the hall. He breathes in the almond-jasmine of her hair and her pulse ticks measuredly under his fingers. He finds harmony in her pace and touches his lips to the top of her head, grateful. She smiles, sensing this, and squeezes his hand.

He doesn't speak about it often. He hopes he expresses it in his gaze, in the way he touches her when they're alone. He hopes that she knows, in every moment he spends with her, that he’s thankful and that she is the love of his life, a phrase that still grabs him unexpectedly in the night, a phrase that keeps him awake. The love of his life. The only woman. The first thought on his mind before he wakes and sleeps. He pulls her closer as they walk to the U-Bahn -- she softens in response to his anxiety and pain, her own emotions more available for him to channel his through.

He shuts his eyes as they wait for the train, turning his face into her sun-warmed hair. She turns and puts her arms around him and he breathes in at the gesture, focusing on the way her body softens against his, on the rise and fall of her ribs as she matches his breathing. She grows quiet when he does, and he appreciates the unspoken understanding between them, the opportunity to communicate through touch and thought.

She nuzzles her nose against his chest and he holds her closer, opening his eyes to examine the bright train platform as she thumbs over his shoulder blades. He reflects for a moment on the first time a girl touched him -- his first positive experience with touch since his mother died. He remembers jumping, at first alarmed by the human-on-human contact which he had no reason to associate with anything good; then he remembers melting. Kala's touch brings back the initial surprise, over and over. The honesty and pleasure her touch brings still startles him at times.

He hums quietly and kisses the side of her head. She smiles and he hugs her small frame closer, suddenly smirking -- she's half his size and twice as vicious, a tiny firework.

"I love you," he mumbles before he catches himself -- he always wants to catch himself before saying this, but by now, it's unconscious and internalized; he tells her he loves her in every word and every movement he makes, and he knows she knows. He catches her smirking in satisfaction whenever he merely thinks the words _...I love you._ And he thinks those words too often.

"I love you," she says in response, tilting her face up and smiling -- her characteristic trace of uncertainty long extinguished.

He kisses her quickly, and for a moment he exists only with her, the sun silhouetting them. _I miss you even now_...stupid words to say to a woman he knows won't leave, but she returns the sentiment and presses her body closer. Lately, they communicate through touch more than they do through speech; becoming engaged seemed to open a deeper understanding between them, and he finds himself able to come home and simply look at her to express a want or a need. He knows they were capable of this before, as Sensates, but now, it seems they are capable of it as a couple.

The train arrives, a blur of yellow and chrome, and she walks onto it in front of him and takes a seat. By now, riding the U-Bahn together is an established activity, something that feels like home. She sits next to him and leans against him, looking out the window while he does. Her brow is slightly knitted and her eyes are heavy with a memory. He thumbs over her knuckles while he watches her, but she doesn't smile.

"I don't want to see it either," he says quietly, interpreting her thoughts, picturing the unmemorable brick apartments he grew up in.

She nods and murmurs, "I think I've seen more than I can bear."

Memories have filtered through his careful defenses to reach her. He knows she's seen what he never intended to show her, the untold hours on the floor, breathing in the scent of old beer and peanut shells, a dull pounding in his head.

"When was the last time you were in that neighborhood?" she asks softly.

"Long time ago," he admits.

She nods, breathing in; he discerns her plans to stay close to him when they get back home, her intention to soothe him through touch, and he relaxes slightly at the prospect of falling asleep close to her. He adjusts his watch on his wrist and puts an arm around her shoulders, his bicep tightening protectively as she presses closer. He watches as the Berlin he's made his home fades, giving way to the worn, overgrown east. Kala watches too, eyes dark with curiosity and concern as the minutes go by.

He feels his memories pass to her -- walking this route to Felix's apartment, jumping across overflowed drainage ditches, finding freedom in being alone.

"I'm surprised I haven't shown you," he mumbles.

"Maybe it doesn't deserve our attention," she says quietly. "It's in the past."

He nods in agreement, though the teeth of the memories nip at him, asking him to share with the only woman he's ever loved. _Some day,_ he says without speaking. She nods softly and brushes her fingers over his wrist, then lifts up to touch her nose to his; he sinks in the sensation of her breath on his mouth.

Then she rests her head assuredly against his shoulder and he looks at her, a sudden smile overtaking him. He's sure she laughs at him in private; he's sure she giggles with Riley and Lito about his tendency to smile stupidly at every move she makes. He squeezes her waist and kisses the side of her head, and they ride the rest of the way in silence to the station in Marzahn.

He watches her expression dim as the train slows at the platform. She presses closer to the window and he sees the sparse trees and the dusky beige buildings through her eyes.

"This is different," she murmurs. "Is it safe?"

He shrugs, then remembering that shrugging in response to a question like that isn't something anyone finds particularly reassuring.

"It's safe enough," he says.

She looks at him steadily as they step onto the platform.

"Wolfgang, you do realize that you're as vague as Jonas sometimes?"

He grins. "I'm useless, yeah. It's safe, okay?"

"Well, now I don't believe you!" she laughs, taking his hand.

He laughs too, then leans his head back in the sun, more at ease. They walk up to a large street, and seeing that no cars are coming, he pulls her with him at a run to the median, then to the other side. She catches her breath and bumps her hip against his playfully as they continue along a mishmash of brick, cobble, and concrete. They turn into a parking lot to see the low-lying red and white dealership.

"This looks like a good place to get murdered," Kala says brightly.

He grins and nods in agreement, patting his back pocket to locate his wallet.

"We could wait, you know," she says, turning with him towards the dealership and opening the door for him. "We won't need a car very often in Paris."

He shrugs. "I want a car." He pauses, glancing at her. "I want to teach you to drive."

"Oh, I don't think you're authorized to teach anyone to drive, _you_ can barely drive," she retorts.

He grins. "This is what you get for waiting."

She rolls her eyes as they step up to the counter. He explains he called about a car earlier, and she wanders the lobby, glancing at the potted plants and car magazines, at the glass tables and the orange vinyl couches. He looks at her as the dealer hands him the keys to the car and she raises her eyebrows, gesturing at a poster advertising the 1989 BMW 325i. He smirks in amusement, crossing the lobby to reach her.

"That's what we're getting," he says.

She laughs. "It is not!"

"No, it isn't," he agrees, nudging her towards the door.

"I feel like I've stepped back in time," she says as they step outside again, the winter grass that has pushed through the crumbling concrete crinkling under their feet. "There's a very strange energy here."

He nods in agreement, reaching for her hand, crossing the sunny, decaying asphalt to reach a black BMW. He tilts his head. She raises her eyebrows.

"A convertible? Isn't that more expensive?"

"A bit," he admits. "But it's old."

"Does it have airbags?" she wonders, walking around the side of the car.

He nods. "Yes, driver, passenger, side, rollover bar, it's fine."

"How much?" she asks.

He hesitates. "Eighty-nine hundred. Felix will cover it until we can pay him back."

"I can pay for it," she says. "I did work at Rajan's company for a year, you know. It was a good salary."

"Thank you, nepotism," murmurs Wolfgang as he rounds the back of the car and examines it.

"What's that?"

"Nothing, babe."

Kala growls at him as she passes him to look at the other side of the car. "I know you said something I would disagree with because you mumbled it."

He glances over the hood at her and shakes his head, eyes bright with mischief. She tongues over her bottom lip, starting to smirk.

"I don't trust you," she says, folding her arms and smiling.

"You shouldn't," he replies, coming around the front of the car to reach her. He looks at her. "I like it."

She nods and smiles. "I like it too. It fits us. And if we bought anything less expensive it would most likely break." She pauses, her slender fingertips on the hood. "It's strange to worry about money."

He looks at her cautiously. "Do you wish I--"

"No," she interrupts, voice warm. "It's just something I'm not used to." She smiles. "I only care that I'm with you."

He nods slowly. She puts her arms around his neck and kisses him, tilting her face after a moment to deepen the kiss, pressing closer. He breathes in, surprised, and finds the shape of her body under his hands. Her touch is medicine in a different way than any touch he's experienced before -- it isn't numbing, it's heady and jolting. He slides his hands down her back and feels her lips twitch against his, and she presses her body more firmly to his. He groans quietly, noticing the sensation of her breasts against his chest, then gently pulls back and pushes her away, his hands lingering on her hips.

"Are you telling me the truth or did you kiss me so I couldn't respond?" he asks.

She smiles. "I'm telling you the truth. And I kissed you to reassure you."

He nods. "That worked but now I want to have sex with you."

She looks up at him with dark eyes and smiles patiently.

"We have a new car with a backseat to break in," he adds.

She tries not to laugh, but fails instantly; he grins while she laughs, grabbing her waist and kissing her. They pull away and laugh quietly together, noses touching.

"Okay, okay, let's go buy the car," she murmurs. "And then we can go home."

He holds up the keys. "We have to test drive it first."

She nods, then tugs playfully on the collar of his shirt and looks into his eyes. "Do not steal this car, Wolfgang Bogdanow."

"But it would be easy," he says longingly.

She grins and laughs, pushing him away and getting into the passenger's side. He gets in the other side and they look around the interior, and then he pulls out of the parking lot. The next fifteen minutes involve broken speed limits and Kala invoking Ganesha's name several times while gripping her seat in sheer terror. She looks at Wolfgang in outrage at every stop sign and he smiles at her pleasantly before punching the gas once again. By the time they're back to the dealership, he's broken innumerable traffic laws.

"Are you angry or impressed?" he asks her as they walk across the lot to the dealership.

"Both," she sighs. "What's wrong with you?"

"You could fill a book," he replies and she laughs loudly.

They go inside, Kala pays for the car, and then they return to the lot, walking slowly and holding hands. He thumbs over her index finger, unsettled and exhilarated at once, hesitant to trust the future even as it crashes over him. She looks at him in consolation.

"Strange to be here with you," he admits. "I haven't been in this neighborhood in almost twenty years."

She nods as they reach the car. "You never know how coming home will feel until you actually...come home. It isn't something you can predict."

Sometimes he appreciates the circular nature of being in Berlin with Kala, stumbling across a familiar sight with her, comparing how he felt years ago, alone, to how he feels now with her next to him. He finds it affirming, a reminder that his mistakes and misfortune weren't permanent. But other times he would rather be insulated, distanced from any reminders, his life divided neatly into sections -- the time before he met her and the time after.

They get into the car, both quiet. She watches him for a moment.

"You don't speak very often because you have too much to say, not too little," she murmurs. "You're always thinking something over."

He smiles faintly and nods.

She smiles too, then squeezes his hand. "If you want to talk--" She stops at his reluctant expression. "No. Of course, you don't. Let's go home."

He nods again and starts the car. He pulls out of the lot and makes a right, glancing out the window at a scrubby field with an abandoned office building.

"No fucking idea how to get home from here," he says, turning again, finding a road that leads south into a neighborhood with motley houses, larger trees, and yards fenced with rusting chain-link. He shakes his head slightly after a moment. "We lived somewhere around here but I don't remember specifically..." He trails off. "Why wouldn't I remember that?"

"It was a long time ago," says Kala.

He nods, unconvinced. He feels the roads pull at him mockingly, asking to be turned down and re-explored. If he was alone, he would indulge the urge and abandon himself to the past for a few hours. Kala's presence prevents him from doing this, which he resents her for, though he knows exploring his old neighborhood would bring him no solace and would leave him with a strong desire to drink himself into a restless haze. He glances at her and the sight of her encourages him to follow his sense of direction rather than his sense of vague familiarity with the street signs and the houses.

After a moment they reach a stoplight, the street now bordered with a hedge on one side and deciduous trees on the other. He leans over the steering wheel, glancing at the street name, and continues straight, the asphalt giving way to cobble. Kala looks out his window with a delicate frown.

"Is this a park? This seems wrong, the road is getting smaller..."

He slows, then breathes in softly. "No." His hands tighten on the steering wheel and he says, as casually as he can manage, "No, it's a cemetery, it's where my mother is buried, actually."

"Oh," says Kala, voice similarly disguised.

He keeps driving, past some parking spaces, approaching a new neighborhood.

"She...she wasn't buried in the same cemetery as your father?"

He shakes his head. "No, she wasn't allowed to be buried in an Orthodox cemetery." He pauses. "The bishop would have made an exception but my grandfather wouldn't."

She breathes in. "Oh. Oh, Wolfgang, that's..."

He shrugs. "It wasn't a surprise and I'd prefer she's here, away from him."

She nods and stays quiet for another moment as they drive. Then she puts her hand on his arm.

"Wolfgang."

The tone of her voice surprises him -- almost a yelp, almost unconscious, as if she was prodded by an unseen force.

"What?" he asks.

"We should stop. We should get flowers for her."

"Kala--"

"No, I want to," she says insistently. "She was your mother, you are the man I love, and I want this. You don't have to come with me. But I want to do this."

He looks at her for a moment, expression unchanged save for a small wrinkle on one of his eyebrows. He nods gently and slows the car, then pulls into a free parking space.

They get out of the car together, stepping into the sunshine. Kala walks along the cobbles towards a mulchy embankment and she climbs up it, disappearing into the trees. Wolfgang watches her for a moment, confused. Then she returns with a large bouquet of bishop's weed, a delicate white flower.

"This grows everywhere," she explains quietly.

"Kala, I don't even know how to find her grave, I've been here once."

She looks at him cautiously. "Once?"

"Once, when she was buried," he says brusquely.

"We...we don't have to do this," stepping back and clinging to the flowers.

He breathes out harshly, rubbing the back of his head before letting his arm fall to his side. He shakes his head, pulse thudding loudly, unsure if he's annoyed, angry, or afraid.

"It's okay," he says after a moment.

"No," she says ruefully. "No, I'm being insensitive."

He looks up from the grimy cobbles under his polished boots and watches her as she stands in the sun, the bouquet of flowers overwhelming her small stature. He breathes in and shakes his head again, but it's a softer gesture than before.

"No, it's kind of you to want to do this," he says quietly. "And we're getting married, we should share things like this."

She nods guardedly and reaches to take his hand. She squeezes it and he squeezes back, and then they walk towards a small set of stairs.

"I don't know where to look," he says. "I don't remember."

"You'll remember," she says warmly. "Just don't think too much, your heart will find it."

He doesn't believe this, so he doesn't respond, and they walk for a few minutes down a rich dirt path, past several mausoleums, and under broad-leafed trees, still bare enough from the winter that sunlight leaks through.

"Do you remember what it looked like?" she asks.

He nods. "It was small, we couldn't afford much."

Kala looks around the cemetery, which is filled with small headstones. She nods optimistically and they continue to walk.

"It was on the other side," he says after a moment. "There was no noise from the road."

Kala nods again and they turn onto a smaller path, towards the other end of the cemetery. They pass the groundskeeper's stone cottage and duck under some unkempt pines, stepping again into the sun.

"Do you remember much from that day?" asks Kala tentatively.

He shakes his head, keeping his gaze on his feet as they walk over the brown leaf litter from the fall.

"I was still..." He shrugs. "I don't have the words, Kala, I was ten, it was sudden. None of it felt real."

"You may not have even understood," murmurs Kala. "Ten is very young, I certainly didn't know what death meant at that age, I wasn't aware there was a permanent ending to any of this..."

He shakes his head. The men in his family made sure he saw death first hand before he could childishly consider an infinite, untroubled life.

"I did understand," he says quietly. "At least that it was permanent. I understood that."

She nods. "I'm so sorry you understood that when you were so young."

"It wasn't wrong that I understood it, but it was wrong how it was taught to me," he replies, stopping himself before he explains his father and uncle's willingness to bring him along for, as they said, a _zamochit --_ the murder of anyone who defied them.

Kala looks at him in alarm, glimpsing a memory. "Weren't...weren't they concerned you would tell on them?"

"After what I saw them do?" he asks with a humorless laugh. " I knew what they would do to me if I did that. And I barely knew it was wrong, Kala, it was our culture."

"Culture," she murmurs.

"Yes," he says. "The only laws or morals that mattered were the ones they created, and that's all I knew."

Kala nods heavily and they continue down the path, slowing now to read headstones. She trails her fingertips on the mossy stones and he reads dates and stories carved in the stone, eyes flashing, the sun and shadows framing his features as his expression softens in interest -- so many lives, neatly recorded in granite, which betrays none of the fragility or disarray of the lives actually lived; the invasion of moss, ivy, and weather is a relief to him, an expression of reality.

“You don’t like lies, do you?” says Kala softly, coming up to him from behind.

“What do you mean?” he asks, equally quiet.

Her gaze drifts to one of the headstones. “They all say nice things, like...cherished husband or loyal friend...we don’t know if that’s true, but it’s written in stone.” She pauses at a weathered grave. “This man died over two hundred years ago, anyone who knew him personally would be dead as well, so now he exists according to what it says about him here and no one could say differently. I think that bothers you.”

He watches her for a moment before nodding. “It does.”

“It bothers me too,” she murmurs, continuing along the line of stones. She tilts her head. “Wolfgang, why did your family choose those words for your father’s grave?”

“Why didn’t they lie, you mean?” asks. “Say something normal like what’s on all of these?”

She nods.

“I think they chose it as a warning for the person who did it,” he says, adding more quietly, “but they also knew what he had done, his death was never surprising."

"But it's strange, if your uncle and grandfather respected him the way it seemed they did..."

Wolfgang shrugs. "They did. But they knew what he was and no one was ever dishonest."

"Strange," she murmurs again, feet crunching the dry winter grass. "They murdered people but they wouldn't lie to each other."

They don't speak for several minutes, continuing slowly along the headstones. Wolfgang has just kneeled to right a vase of roses that had spilled when Kala calls his name. He looks up. She's paused in front of a small headstone, her expression fragile.

"Here," she says quietly. "It's here, Wolfgang."

His heart suddenly patters against his ribs; time seems to slow slightly as he approaches her and looks at the headstone with her. It's small, square, and unadorned except for her name, dates, and a carving of a cross and a dove.

_Elyse Bogdanow, geb. Becker_  
_2.5.1970 - 22.9.1998_

Wolfgang lets all the breath out of his chest and gently touches the top of the stone. Kala kneels, setting the bouquet of wildflowers on the grass. When she stands, she wraps an arm tightly around Wolfgang's middle and leans against him, sniffling. The memory comes back to him, incomplete but vivid, and he holds Kala closer. It was September and the air was gusty and saturated with electricity, the sign of a thunderstorm coming; there were four people in attendance -- him, his father, his uncle, and his mother's pastor. When he found her, he remembers calling the ambulance, then fleeing outside, crying and on the verge of being sick; and then, irrationally afraid the medics would implicate him, he remembers wiping his face and walking behind backyards and through alleys to the small church she always attended. He remembers telling the pastor matter-of-factly what happened and asking him to promise to put a bird on her headstone because she liked birds.

He didn't understand in the moment, and still doesn't, why this was his first concern, but perhaps as a grieving and bewildered ten-year-old, it made sense to fixate on a positive memory, on something that was specific to his mother, on something that belonged only to her. He doesn't know how the pastor kept his promise with Anton and Sergei there to influence him, but perhaps they didn't care about the appearance of her grave. They attended the short ceremony like a chore and it was a relief to Wolfgang, on that day and this one, that his father didn't express a complex emotion, a sign of grief or horror that would humanize him. When the time came to protect himself, he would have found it more difficult if his father had shown even a fleeting concern for his mother and revealed a trace of humanity. But the day of the funeral, like every other day, he stood like a stump, drunk and unaware of the profundity of the moment, unconcerned and unsurprised that his young wife was dead.

Wolfgang, dressed in the only nice shirt he owned -- a crisp white one, slightly too big -- spent the ceremony staring at the casket, deaf to the words of the pastor and the insipid mumblings of Sergei. The ceremony was cut short by the impending storm, the dirt hastily piled over the casket, and he walked home twenty feet behind his father, eyes wide, as if they had taken in more than they could comprehend. At home, he watched his father sit on the same couch his mother died on, and flick on the television. He remembers watching him for a moment, heat building in his chest; when it became overwhelming, he raced to the couch and attempted to pull his father off of it, ineffectually slapping and kicking at him, insisting it was his fault that his mother died. He doesn't remember anything after this; he assumes now that his father knocked him out.

He returns from the memories when he notices Kala sob softly beside him. He turns, his hands on her waist, pulling her closer and searching her expression worriedly.

"Kala, hey," he murmurs. "Why are you crying?"

She sniffles hard, face soaked, and shakes her head. "I -- I think I'm crying for you. Because you won't, or you can't, or..."

He breathes in, startled by this at first. Then he slowly nods, realizing that their Sensate connection means she could be crying for exactly this reason. He hugs her close and rubs her back, and she softens against him, crying openly; the longer she cries, the less weight he feels, and he nuzzles into her hair gratefully. She tucks her face against his chest, shoulders shaking, and after a moment, he tilts his head back, looking into the silhouetted verdant leaves, the hazy sky beyond, and squeezes Kala with a distant smile.

"She would have liked you," he says quietly. "She would have thought you're too trusting, but she would have liked you."

Kala sniffles and nods. "She wasn't trusting?"

"No, she was suspicious of everyone," he replies.

Kala laughs and cries at once. "Like mother like son."

He grins and nods, then chuckles. "She thought we were different. She called me an optimist. _Me_."

Kala laughs again, tilting her wet face up into the sun. She smiles gently at him. "She isn't wrong, you're ambitious and fierce and you don't believe there is any problem you can't fix."

He shakes his head. "I don't know." Then he smiles again, more faintly. "She thought everything would be better for me than it was for her."

Kala's brow twitches in confusion. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because it is better," he says quietly. "I know how hard my life was, but with you, the rest of my life..." He shrugs as he searches for the words. "The rest of my life will be better than anyone's."

She blinks, crying anew. "I love you."

"I love you," he says, kissing her quickly. 

She laughs, blushing, and hugs him again; they sway slightly in the dappled sun. She stops crying after a moment, closing her eyes as he soothes her with his touch. A new memory filters in, dulled by age, softer in color and slightly hazy; she experiences it as he does, the sensation of lying on the carpeted floor of his childhood bedroom, his mother lying a few feet away, one arm under her head, her other arm extended, her fingertips not quite reaching him, a small, infatuated smile on her face. She's barely twenty-one, making Wolfgang almost three, and she giggles gently while she sings to him, watching him stretch his toes and laugh at the sound of her voice, overwhelmed by the attention.

_And for you, there will be no more crying..._  
_And for you, the sun will be shining..._

Kala looks at Wolfgang with bright eyes and steady smile. He smiles back, touching his nose to hers, and she breaks into a gentle grin.

"We'll be okay," she murmurs.

She's the only person he trusts these words from. He nods.

"We will," he replies.

 


	33. April 2, 10:37 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang work on plans for the wedding. Felix third-wheels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fluffy filler chapter *shrugs*
> 
> 1\. Kala knows too much about hydrangeas.   
> 2\. Black Forest Cake is fabulous okay? It's fabulous. Go get some.  
> 3\. Thank you to The Office for reminding me about a hilarious German wedding tradition (you'll see)  
> 4\. Felix deserves a third-wheeling award at this point.
> 
> ...okay, read away.

Kala and Wolfgang step out of their apartment on a balmy April morning, holding hands and clutching buttery bagel sandwiches that Kala made. They glance at each other, smiling gently as they make their way down the hall. When they reach the door to the street, Kala grins, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

"I've always wanted to do a cake-tasting," she says excitedly, pushing the door open against the wind. "It isn't traditional in Mumbai of course, but Daya showed me pictures of these huge wedding cakes when we were teenagers, and oh...I thought they were so beautiful! We're going to need a very large cake, we have so many people coming..."

Wolfgang is about to reply, but he notices Felix walking up to them from the left, waving jovially, as if they're expecting him. He's wearing dark orange pants, a loose white button down, a scarlet belt and a scarf patterned with purple and red calico. Wolfgang frowns slightly -- after nearly twenty years, his brother's fashion choices still take him aback.

Kala blinks. "Felix?"

Felix stops when he reaches them, smile fading. "Cake tasting, right? I thought we were going cake tasting..."

Kala looks at Wolfgang. "Did you invite him?"

Wolfgang hesitates, a memory beckoning him back to last night; after several beers, he rambled to Felix about Kala's detailed wedding schedule, color-coded and paginated, all organized in a binder on their kitchen table. He mentioned the plans to taste different cakes and Felix insisted on accompanying them ("Free cake, Wolfie! When does that ever fucking happen?")

"I may have," says Wolfgang.

"He did, he was drunk," Felix says brightly. "So was I, but I have a better memory."

Kala looks at Wolfgang, her eyes flashing in annoyance. He smiles at her in response and takes a nonchalant bite of his bagel.

"God, you two," murmurs Kala, taking both men by the arm and starting down the street. "You're like children..."

Felix nods and Wolfgang wraps an arm around Kala's waist, pulling her close while they walk. Felix glances at the bagels they're holding.

"You didn't make me one?" he asks Kala.

She glares at him, her lush hair catching in the wind, forming a witchy halo around her. Felix's eyes widen.

"Never mind," he says abruptly, turning to Wolfgang. "Does she look at you like that?"

He nods. "I'm used to it."

"No he isn't, he freezes like a deer every time," murmurs Kala superiorly.

They continue towards the nearest U-Bahn station and go downstairs, waiting a moment for the train. Kala leans against Wolfgang and he pulls her close by her waist, and then she stretches to kiss him. Her eyes crinkle joyfully as she pulls away.

Felix side-eyes them."Do you guys know how much you kiss?"

Kala turns, expression darkening. "Today was supposed to be a romantic day, Felix. We aren't going to modify our behavior for you. You aren't supposed to be here."

Felix shakes his head.

Kala turns back to Wolfgang, putting her arms around his neck. He grins and they kiss quickly again. The train comes and the three of them step onto it. Kala sits next to Wolfgang, staying close, and they meet eyes for a moment, intuitively finding each other's hands. Felix watches them unsurely. Despite seeing them together for months, he's still surprised by Wolfgang's ability to show such unwavering affection.

"Do you even know I'm here?" he murmurs.

Kala, without looking away from Wolfgang, reaches out and puts a finger up to Felix's mouth. Wolfgang glances down, trembling with silent laughter. After a moment, he shakes his head, laughing more loudly.

"I love it when you're rude," he says.

She grins. "I know."

"You two are fucking codependent," says Felix. "You enable bad behaviors in each other." Then his stomach grumbles and they look at him. He shrugs. "Didn't eat breakfast."

"You need a girlfriend," murmurs Kala.

"You need to take care of yourself," says Wolfgang.

"I'm out of food!" says Felix defensively. "I haven't been to the store in a week, I started playing Mario Kart last Saturday, and..." He trails off, eyes darkening in shame. "It got away from me..."

Kala sighs. "How are you and Dani?"

He brightens. "Good. Nothing official, you know, it's long distance."

"Seemed official in Los Angeles," says Wolfgang.

Kala smiles. "You'll see her at the wedding. Maybe you should take a trip to Mexico after that."

Felix nods. "Yeah. I don't want to go too fast though."

Wolfgang narrows his eyes. "You don't want to go too fast?"

"Fuck off, Wolfie, not everyone wants to get engaged the day they meet," says Felix, adding, "If I die at your wedding you can't blame me, the shock of seeing you say vows might kill me."

Kala turns and kisses Wolfgang's cheek affectionately. "He can be very romantic when he wants to be, Felix."

Felix laughs. "Fine, but vows?"

"Well, they won't be traditional vows," explains Kala. "I won't be promising to obey him the rest of my life."

"As if I could make you do anything you don't want to do," murmurs Wolfgang.

She gives him a cheeky grin. "You couldn't. Maybe you should vow to obey _me_ since you always seem to anyway."

He glances at her. "I'm going to do the opposite of everything you say this week just to spite you."

"Try it, you'll be sorry," she says primly.

Felix snorts. "She'll be the mean parent."

Kala looks at him, disgruntled. "I will not be."

"You will," agrees Wolfgang. "I'll overcompensate for my own childhood and never say no."

Kala looks at him for a moment in consideration, then nods. "I think that's true." She smooths her dress over her knees and leans back in her seat, looking out the window as the train comes even with the street and sunlight floods through. "It's finally sunny. Still freezing, but sunny."

"It's eighteen degrees..." says Felix softly.

"She's always cold," replies Wolfgang. "It's why she sleeps on top of me and steals the blanket."

Kala tries to look stern. "I do not."

"You do, every night," says Wolfgang firmly.

She relents and grins. "You're very comfortable and warm."

"How the fuck do you sleep like that?" Felix asks Wolfgang.

"I don't mind now," says Wolfgang, adding, "I didn't sleep the first few nights."

"You didn't?" asks Kala in surprise.

"No, I'd never slept with someone in my bed before," he laughs.

"Never?" she asks.

"No," he says honestly.

She smiles and touches her nose to his. "Good. Then it's just for me."

He chuckles and kisses her quickly, and she snuggles against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They ride quietly for a few minutes. Kala shuts her eyes and thumbs over Wolfgang's wristbones and knuckles, breathing in the comforting scent of his clothes and cologne; he curls his arm more tightly around her with every slight bump of the train on the tracks and she smiles each time. Every few minutes she sets her chin on his shoulder and kisses his jaw or the side of his mouth.

Felix plays with his phone, ignoring them, until Kala mumbles a question.

"What kind of cake is traditional here?"

"No idea," Wolfgang admits.

"Those genoise sponge cakes," says Felix.

Kala lifts her head, surprised. "How do you know?"

He shrugs. "I've been to a few weddings. Wolfie hasn't, he hates them. I go for the free alcohol."

Kala chuckles and nods in understanding, then perks an eyebrow, "What is a genoise sponge cake?"

Felix shrugs. "Just a cake." Then he laughs. "Are you doing the polterabend?"

Wolfgang squints. "The what?"

"You know, where you break dishes the night before your wedding to get rid of demons and spirits," explains Felix.

"No!" laughs Kala. "How silly. Besides, I like this demon..." She strokes Wolfgang's hair and kisses his temple. "I don't want to get rid of him."

Felix looks at them with a cagey smirk. "Wait, so you don't know anything about German weddings?"

Wolfgang glances at him. "Not really. Why?"

Felix shakes his head, silently plotting to take part in the traditional prank where the best man kidnaps the bride after the ceremony, hides her at a bar, forces the groom to search for her, and makes him pay the bar tab as a ransom for her. "No reason."

Kala and Wolfgang look unsurely at each other, but don't have time to respond before the train comes to a stop at their station and they all get up. They walk along the platform in the sun, then continue down a narrow street with modern glass and metal buildings. Kala zips her jacket to keep the wind away and takes Wolfgang's hand, and they walk a short way to a bakery.

"Isn't a bakery in Paris making your cake?" asks Felix.

Kala nods. "This baker has a bakery here and there, it's very convenient, and very highly rated. We did our homework, Felix."

"She did," says Wolfgang. "She called sixty bakeries."

"I called fifty-eight bakeries," she says.

Felix looks at Wolfgang in astonishment and Wolfgang grins gently, unsurprised by Kala's thoroughness. The three of them go into the bakery and a tall man with a beard reminiscent of Hernando's comes up to them and shakes each of their hands.

"I'm Enno, I'll be your baker today--" He pauses at Felix and frowns. "I thought you said there was going to be two of you..."

Kala scowls playfully at Felix. "Yes, I thought so. Do you have enough for three?"

"Best man?" asks Enno. "Happens a lot. They hear about free cake and tag along."

"See, he understands," says Felix defensively.

Kala rolls her eyes fondly and touches Felix's shoulder, urging him further into the bakery as they follow Enno.

"So when's the wedding?" asks Enno.

"June 8," says Kala cheerfully.

"Ooh June, it's beautiful here in June," says Enno, guiding them past the counter and into the back of the bakery.

Kala breathes in the scent of flour and yeast, smiling, and explains, "We'll be in Paris, but I imagine it will be gorgeous. Unless it rains but..." She glances at Wolfgang. "We wouldn't mind."

He smiles and nods in agreement.

They sit down at a table laid out with nearly a dozen cake options. Enno pulls a third chair over for Felix.

"Okay," says Enno, gesturing at the table, "from left to right, we have...white chocolate cake with raspberry filling and lemon liqueur...coconut cake with custard and key lime frosting...vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream, very simple but popular, it will keep all your in-laws happy--"

Felix nudges Wolfgang. "Can you fucking imagine? Luckily they're all dead."

"--wow, okay, sounds like you dodged a bullet with the in-laws," Enno says to Kala.

"I did," she murmurs, adding in Hindi to Wolfgang, "but they certainly didn't."

Wolfgang's lips twitch in amusement and Kala grins.

"Let's see..." Enno goes on. "We have a chocolate cake with espresso, a marble cake with orange blossom filling, a red velvet cake, and oh, of course, a lovely, traditional sponge cake, this one is a vanilla sponge with almond liqueur and ganache...oh, and we included this black forest cake, which is chocolate, cherries, espresso and of course kirsch...if you wanted it sweeter, we could make that one with cherry vodka instead...although don't let my boss know I said that, that's baking blasphemy and she'd question whether I'm really German."

Kala grins. "I know the feeling. My father is a chef, and he's very particular." Then she smiles and takes a breath. "My goodness. Okay. Where do you want to start?"

"I'll just leave you to it," says Enno. "Holler if you have questions."

He walks into a farther reach of the bakery, and Kala pulls the chocolate cake with espresso towards her. She picks up a fork and carefully gathers a bite of cake and frosting, then smiles at Wolfgang and nudges him to open his mouth.

"You first," she says warmly.

He smiles at her before taking a bite. He groans quietly.

"That's really good, fuck..."

She grins and takes a bite, then moans and closes her eyes. "Oh my God...oh, we're never going to be able to choose if they're all this good. Maybe a cake with espresso is a good idea considering we'll be up late."

"All night," agrees Wolfgang with a devilish smirk.

"Yes, we'll be _dancing_ all night," says Kala.

Felix shakes his head. "The only dancing you'll be doing is a pants-off dance-off."

Wolfgang punches him in the arm.

"Ouch!" complains Felix. "You can't punch me for saying something that's true!"

Kala rolls her eyes. "Speaking of dancing," she says to Wolfgang, "you might want to practice."

He raises an eyebrow, then takes some frosting off the plate and puts it on the tip of her nose. She laughs loudly, shoving him away.

"You need practice!" she insists, giggling and looking for a napkin.

"I'll wing it--"

"You are not winging our first dance," she says, finally wiping the frosting off her nose. "I'll teach you."

He nods and kisses her gently. "Okay, babe."

She grins and keeps him close, kissing him again, and then she reaches into her purse for her notebook. She pulls it out and opens it to a page where she's written out a cake-tasting rating system. Wolfgang eyes it.

"Why are you this organized?"

"Weddings are complicated."

"Yes, but this is cake. It's good or it's bad."

Kala rolls her eyes and takes out a pen. "Okay. Icing consistency...I give it an 8. Crumb texture of the cake was perfect, so 10. Appearance...hm, it's tasty but it could be prettier, so 5. Overall taste...8. What do you think?"

Wolfgang shakes his head. "You are such a nerd." He smiles slightly. "8, 10, 4, and 9."

She beams, touched that he goes along with her geeky habits. She records his responses, then pulls a new slice of cake towards them.

"What about me?" asks Felix.

She passes him the first cake and he digs in wolfishly. She and Wolfgang spend the remainder of the morning trying all the cakes and sipping coffee in between, often feeding each other. Felix bangs his fork on the table in protest after witnessing Kala suck some vanilla frosting off of Wolfgang's index finger. ("This is a fucking bakery! I don't want to see this!")

Kala, after applying statistical analysis to her cake rating system and writing out several equations, clears her throat to announce the finalists. Wolfgang and Felix meet eyes, slightly scared of her skills.

"Okay. We loved the sponge cake. And the white chocolate cake. And the black forest cake...so the way I see it is we have three categories." She lists them off on her fingers, speaking very quickly. "The sponge cake, which is traditional. The black forest cake, which is a traditional German cake but not necessarily traditional for a wedding, and the white chocolate, which is more...American-style but very tasty. So it depends how traditional we want to be, and we should also consider what our friends and family will like, and we should think about presentation and colors, and also whether the flavor makes sense with my father's dinner menu, and perhaps we should ask if we have icing options because I liked the whipped cream icing but whipped cream has to be stabilized and I don't know if they stabilized it with geletin or not but if they did that have to use dry milk instead because Nomi and Amanita are vegetarian and also--"

"Kala, babe," murmurs Wolfgang. "We have time."

Kala nods, taking a breath, and she laughs gently at herself. Then her eyes brighten and she instantly continues, "--oh! Really, the black forest cake is perfect because, just think, the cherries go with the wedding colors! And I think we should get cupcakes in addition to the cake because those are easier for people to eat, unless you think that cupcakes are childish."

"I don't have an opinion on cupcakes," says Wolfgang measuredly. "I trust you."

She nods excitedly, turning a page in her notebook and handing it to Wolfgang. "You draw what I describe."

He grins. "Okay."

"I want the cake to be three tiers, with chocolate shavings on the sides, and a ring of cherries around each cake...except on the top, I want that to be covered in ganache--"

"Which is...?"

"Chocolate sauce that firms up like fudge, it's delicious, just write it down for them, it's spelled g-a-n-a-c-h-e--"

"Does she normally have this much energy?" Felix mumbles in amazement.

Kala continues with blinking. "--and then underneath the cake there can be three more tiers for the cupcakes...and those can be somewhat simple, just frosting and a cherry on top, but we need to make sure there's the espresso filling on the inside like in the cake." She breathes out, watching him draw, and then she shakes her head at herself. "I hated every moment of planning my first wedding, but I like this."

He grins softly and nods, then hands the notebook over.

"Perfect," she murmurs, kissing him in thanks. She reads over the notes he made on the margins of the drawing and nods. "Good, we can just give this to the baker..."

She glances over her shoulder and calls for Enno, who returns with fresh coffee for all of them.

They thank him and Kala tears the page out of her notebook to hand to him.

"Nice drawing," he says, adding, "you two are, like, the cutest couple I've seen in months by the way, I had to tell you."

Kala grins. "Thank you!"

"And you're decisive," he says, nodding at the paper. "Most people agonize for hours."

"She knows what she wants when she sees it," murmurs Wolfgang, looking at Kala.

Kala softens, taking his hands under the table. She nods and they smile quickly at each other. Then she follows Enno to the counter to pay and Wolfgang and Felix step outside to wait. Kala's heart misses a beat when she learns the cake is nearly three hundred dollars, but she takes a steadying breath and hands her card over.

She says goodbye and finds Wolfgang and Felix outside -- Felix is chatting rapidly about a movie Dani is auditioning for and Wolfgang is listening with a small, proud smirk. Kala latches arms with them and tugs them down the street.

They find their way to a store specializing in paper, and Kala spends an hour deliberating about various shades of cream and beige while Wolfgang insists to Felix that he's going to throw himself in front of a car if this deliberation continues much longer.

Felix suggests it would be easier to follow the German tradition of sending out a _Hochzeitslader_ \-- a clownish, colorfully-dressed man -- to personally invite everyone before remembering their friends live all over the world.

Kala eventually chooses a cream card with gold fibers in the paper and gold leaf on the edges. Then she sits down at a table with Wolfgang and Felix to decide on the wording.

"Apparently the traditional format is something like...Mr. and Mrs. Sanyam Dandekar are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter...but that seems too old-fashioned," says Kala, going through some sample invitations. "And I'm supposed to mention your parents too, so...I suppose we won't mention any of them? How about...together with their families, Kala and Wolfgang request the honor of your presence...? We could mean our Cluster too when we say family..."

"Why do we need these at all?" asks Wolfgang. "Everyone knows."

"It's courteous," says Kala. "And not everyone knows, I'm inviting some people from my job in Mumbai and some friends from school, and if there is anyone you would like to invite..."

He shakes his head in confusion but murmurs, "Okay." Then he glances at her. "Who would I invite?

Kala holds his gaze and eventually nods. "Silly question." She goes back to looking through invitation examples and after a moment holds up one of them. "This is sweet. This one would read Kala and Wolfgang have chosen the first day of their new life together as...and then we would put our date and location and things."

Wolfgang breathes out. "They're all fine, Kala."

She laughs. "Wolfgang! Why were you patient about the cake and not this?"

"That used up my patience," he says, adding, "and you can eat cake, babe."

"You're such a little boy sometimes," she murmurs.

Felix glances at him. "Wait, where is your location? I didn't know you picked that yet."

Wolfgang nods. "We did. Bois de Boulogne in Paris, it's a botanical garden."

"It's gorgeous," says Kala as she sorts several designs. "Lito knows a producer there and he did us a favor."

Felix grins. "Fucking Lito." He shakes his head wistfully and adds, "What else are we doing today?"

"Picking Wolfgang's tie, and the flowers," says Kala softly.

Wolfgang groans quietly. "I just want to marry you, babe."

Kala glances up with a faint smile. "I know. But we deserve a nice wedding after everything we've been through."

He sighs, but nods in agreement. She squeezes his hand.

"Go with Felix to pick your tie, I'll be here a little longer," she says.

"Thank you, I love you," he says, getting to his feet and kissing her quickly. He pulls Felix out of his chair and pushes him towards the door. "What the fuck is the difference between cream and beige?"

"No _fucking_ idea," says Felix vigorously as they go through the door.

Wolfgang finds a formal attire store on his phone and leads Felix in that direction, lighting a cigarette after sheltering it from the wind with his hands. They walk in silence for a few minutes and then Felix nudges Wolfgang.

"I know this is all bullshit but are you getting excited?"

Wolfgang grins softly. "Yeah, I am. I know it doesn't change anything between us but...I like the idea of calling her my wife, it feels right for us."

Felix smiles. "Yeah. It does. How's her family dealing with it?"

"They're surprised," he says, thumbing the ash off his cigarette. "But they're okay. Her aunt called last week to tell us that her astrologist likes the date we chose."

Felix snorts. "Her aunt has an astrologist?"

Wolfgang shakes his head in annoyance. "Don't ask."

Felix laughs. "Why did you choose that day?"

"It's when BPO took me."

Felix's lips dip in concern. "That's fucking gloomy, Wolfie."

He shrugs. "We like it. It means we survived."

Felix watches him for a moment, then nods seriously. They continue down the street to a small shop selling suits, ties, and pocket squares. Felix rubs his hands together.

"You're going to look fucking great," he says.

Wolfgang looks up and down Felix's outfit. "Are you sure?"

Felix pats his shoulder as they go into the store. "Calm down, I'm not going to dress you like I dress. Though some color wouldn't kill you."

"It would," says Wolfgang shortly.

Felix drags Wolfgang over to a wall of ties, scrutinizing them. "I know what her dress looks like so...I can base it on that."

Wolfgang makes a disgruntled huff in the back of his throat.

"It's bad luck, Wolfie, you know you can't see the dress," says Felix. "Besides, it'll be better to be surprised when she's walking down the aisle, you're going to fucking cry."

Wolfgang looks down and chuckles. Then Felix sighs.

"Hate to say it but the tie has to be black or gray because red ties are usually tacky as fuck," he says.

He pulls a red tie from the wall and holds it next to Wolfgang's head.

"What are you doing?" Wolfgang asks.

"Seeing how this looks next to your eyes," explains Felix.

Wolfgang grins and shuts his eyes, and Felix shoves him hard.

"You're such a fucking pain in the ass!" Several other customers look in their direction and Felix shrugs, unashamed. "He is!"

Wolfgang laughs and opens his eyes, glancing sideways at the tie. "I don't like wearing red."

"But you're Russian."

Wolfgang snorts.

Felix grins appreciatively at his own joke, then announces, "Doesn't work with your eyes. You should go with black."

"Great," says Wolfgang, grabbing the first black tie he sees and walking towards the counter.

Felix pulls him back. "You need a pocket square, stupid."

"I need a drink--"

"Stop being such a fucking baby! Shit, Wolfie! It's the most important day of your life!"

Wolfgang hesitates, then nods and follows Felix across the shop to the pocket squares. Felix ponders for a few minutes, checking different patterns and comparing the colors to the tie. He appears to choose one, but then he puts it back.

Wolfgang pushes Felix away from the pocket squares, picks a white one, then takes both of Felix's shoulders and walks him towards the counter.

"White's so boring, Wolfie."

"Don't care."

Felix glances at him. "You could put a flower in your pocket instead, a lot of grooms do that."

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows. "You could put a flower in your ass--"

"Don't fucking say it," Felix says tiredly.

By the time they pay and go outside, they find Kala waiting, holding a bag from the stationary store and smiling brightly. She pulls Wolfgang close by both of his hands and kisses him hello.

"We have a beautiful cake and beautiful invitations," she says with a light grin as she pulls away. "Did you pick a tie?"

"Yeah, a black one, black like his soul," mutters Felix.

Kala glances at him, then looks at Wolfgang, disgruntled.

"Could you be adventurous for once?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I like what I picked."

She holds his gaze for a moment, then softens, dipping her head down and smiling. She pulls her hands along his arms and gently squeezes his biceps.

"I like that about you," she says affectionately.

"What?" he asks, suddenly overwhelmed by the tone of her voice.

"I like that you know yourself," she replies, smiling more widely.

He hums in response and kisses her. She grins against his lips, puts her arms around his neck, and they sway slightly. Felix sighs sharply.

"Okay, I give up, I'm going home," he says.

They break apart. Felix takes his cigarettes from his pocket, lights up, and then pats Wolfgang's arm as a goodbye. He walks down the street, headed home. Kala rests her head on Wolfgang's chest, giggling quietly.

"We're supposed to wait until after the wedding to be obnoxious newlyweds," she murmurs.

He grins and chuckles, settling his chin on the top of her head. Then a passerby shouts, "You're blocking the sidewalk!" at them and they quickly separate, take hands, and begin to walk. Kala finds the route to the nearest florist. After ten minutes in the sunshine, they step into a chilly, fragrant store, tables layered with blooms and leaves of every color. Kala's eyes light up.

"I love these stores," she says, adding as she glances at him, "this is just for ideas, Lito said the gardeners at Bois de Boulogne would get us anything we liked, but we should know what we like before we go to Paris..."

He nods, hugging her loosely from behind as they wander through the shop. Kala touches everything with curious fingertips, bringing countless flowers to her face to sniff them and mumble to herself in Hindi about various aspects of the scent. She increases her pace at the sight of some peonies, going towards them with a grin, her hand slipping out of Wolfgang's.

He watches her for a moment and decides he's never seen anything more beautiful than this, her sable hair tossing as she beams over her shoulder at him, as she pulls a bouquet of huge white and pink peonies from a shelf and holds them up, as her eyes glitter with warmth. He smiles faintly, holding back, content to watch.

She continues to explore the shop, gathering different bouquets, and eventually circles back to him, offering him an armful of flowers.

"So," she says brightly, "the bridesmaid's dresses are red so I think we should choose something somewhat neutral for the flowers, maybe something white, and I love gardenias..." She points out some waxy, tropical blossoms. "They smell amazing. And peonies are always nice, and they come in a variety of colors that would work...and look at these hydrangeas," she says. "Now, these ones are blue but we could find white ones." She pauses to smile at him. "Do you know what's fascinating about these?"

He smiles in return. "What?"

"There are aluminum ions in soil and they are either available for consumption by the flower, or they're paired and the flower can't consume them, and this depends on the pH of the soil," she says excitedly, "so, if it's below seven, that means the ions are available and because of that, the flower will be blue, whereas a pH above seven means the opposite and the flowers will be pink. The flower pigment actually changes based on aluminum because hydrangeas are a hyperaccumulator species which means they tolerate a variety of metal elements like silver, lead, selenium...it's incredible. It makes the plants mildly toxic, of course, but that doesn't stop people from making teas and medicines...one species actually accumulates cyanide in the roots as a defense mechanism so nothing eats it. Well, humans smoke the roots as an intoxicant sometimes but...humans are rather stupid."

Wolfgang grins and shakes his head. She laughs at herself and presses closer to him.

"It's interesting, isn't it?"

He nods and kisses her gently.

"And," she whispers, as if telling a secret, "some butterflies who live in the plants that produce cyanogenic glycosides, the form plants store cyanide in...those butterflies actually ingest the cyanide and it makes them unpalatable to predators but they are immune to it themselves."

"How do you know all that?" he asks faintly.

"I did a report on this during university," she says, nodding proudly. "I got to hatch one of the butterflies myself and I nearly screamed when the caterpillar came out of the chrysalis, no one prepared me and told me that they're bright orange with huge black spikes."

He laughs and kisses her again. She grins.

"So, hydrangeas for the arches, and...white and red peonies otherwise...good?"

He nods and she quickly bumps her nose against his in response, then begins to put the flowers back in their correct places. Wolfgang helps, and then they go towards the door. Just after they pass through it, Wolfgang pauses, glancing back inside.

"One minute," he tells her.

Her brows jump together in curiosity, but she waits outside while he goes back into the shop. He comes back a moment later and she stops breathing, pulled under the current by the sight of him -- a slight smile, skin bright in the sun, contrasting with his black teeshirt and the huge bouquet of red roses in his hands.

He hands them to her. She bites her bottom lip, eyes heavy with affection, and her shoulders sink slightly, overwhelmed.

"You're very sweet," she says.

His smile widens, revealing dimples. She smells the roses, closing her eyes, and then she holds them aside so she can kiss him.

"And very classic," she murmurs after she pulls away.

He tucks her hair behind her ear. "I love you."

Her eyes shimmer with contentment. "I love you, too."

She looks at the roses again and smiles radiantly, and then she takes his hand and starts down the street.

She glances up at him. "Do you want to sit by the river at Monbijou?"

He nods in agreement and they walk to the large park nearby, turning from the city street onto a smooth gravel path, then onto the grass, holding hands and glancing occasionally at each other. They disturb a flock of hooded crows and pass a playground, an ornate theatre, and continue through a hilly, treed section of the park to the river. They find a semi-secluded space under a large beech tree and lay down in the shade. Wolfgang rests his head on Kala's tummy and she plays with his hair, watching the clouds through the sparse spring leaves of the tree.

After a few minutes, he says sleepily, "I would marry you today babe, we don't need anything big..."

"I would marry you today too," she says with a soft grin. "But a wedding with our Cluster and our friends and my family?" She sighs happily. "It means we survived." Then she laughs. "And I want a do-over."

"You had a do-over," he mumbles.

"I want another one," she says indignantly. "Third time is the charm."

He grins. "Should I show up to this wedding naked too?"

"Yes, please, in front of my extended family," she replies.

He laughs drowsily, reaching to squeeze her knee.

"And maybe we could get Felix to become an officiant," she adds.

He groans at the idea, continuing to laugh. "I'm sure your family would appreciate him saying something like...ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of my brother and the only woman in the world who puts up with his incessant bullshit."

She laughs loudly, then _aw_ s and thumbs over his forehead. "It's not incessant."

He chuckles. "Felix officiating, me naked..."

"It sounds perfect," she says dreamily, adding, "Since we're blending our cultures together, maybe we could include some of those monkeys from Mumbai that like to steal food and pull women's hair. We could let them loose in the reception hall."

"Yeah, monkeys, and how about yodelers?"

Kala laughs into her hand. "We have to stop."

He grins. "Why? This sounds amazing, babe..."

She grins too, shaking her head. Then she shifts positions so she's next to him, resting her head on his chest. He puts an arm around her, hand on the back of her thigh, pulling her closer.

"I like hearing you laugh," he murmurs.

"I like hearing you laugh, too," she replies, closing her eyes and relaxing as the sunlight percolates through the leaves and warms her skin.

He kisses her forehead before nestling his face into her hair and they rest together for a long time, listening to the breeze in the trees, the distant shouts of children at the playground, the quiet chatter from the riverside picnic tables nearby.

"I'm going to miss it here," he says softly.  
  
She nods. "Me too." She tilts her face up to kiss the side of his mouth. "It's your city. But Paris is our city."

He smiles widely and kisses her. "It is."

She grins, resting her head on his chest again, and they stay in the park for the rest of the afternoon.


	34. April 6, 7:54 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang can't be trusted at parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long since a smutty chapter *shrugs*

Wolfgang leans against the bar, lifting his beer to his mouth while he watches a rooftop party play out. His co-workers walk around and make small talk while they sip colorful drinks. Kala excitedly converses with his boss, both of them genuinely pleased to be at a fundraising event.

They've been here for two hours, and Kala has spent most of the time enthusiastically asking questions and sharing stories; he's spent most of the time watching her from afar and undressing her in his mind, which he knows is inappropriate behavior at a work event, but he doesn't particularly care. He's bored and his fiancée has a great ass.

Kala tilts her head back and laughs at something, then gestures exuberantly and sips her wine. Wolfgang breathes in, watching the grey-pink silk gather on her curves and ripple slightly in the breeze. He brings his beer to his mouth again and reflects, amused, on Kala's occasional inability to sense what he wants.

When they were getting dressed for the event, her speech wandered excitedly from shoes to weather to non-profit philosophy, and he stared at her while she spoke, his jaw tight with desire. She simply smiled and asked him if she looked nice. She had to ask again before he realized she wanted him to respond, and all he could manage was a quiet cough and a nod. Still, she didn't seem aware what was on his mind, and she's even less aware now, talking endlessly with tax experts, wealthy donors, and other prominent Berliners.

He knows he should make an effort to appear interested, but he would rather sip his beer and watch. She doesn't realize the effect that a glance over her shoulder has on him, the impact of her lips around a straw, the power she has in simple movements. He doesn't recall being turned on by such subtle things with other women, but he can watch Kala do something as harmless as put her hair in a bun, or measure coffee, or lean her head back on the couch and smile, and suddenly he has to have her.

She complains (halfheartedly) that everything turns him on, and he struggles to explain that every movement she makes is an echo. She puts her hair up and he's reminded of her stretching her arms over her head while he kisses down her neck; she measures coffee, and the slight twitch of her wrist reminds him of the way she touches him at the beginning of sex, careful and precise while she meets his eyes and faintly smiles; she leans her head back on the couch, and he remembers how she looks when he's inside of her, when she's too overwhelmed to hold his gaze.

His lips twitch slightly in dark amusement. He loves her, but making her embarrassed and sexually frustrated at a party is too tempting to resist. He motions at the bartender for a vodka, then turns, watching Kala again, debating the most effective way to accomplish this.

The string of lights on the roof catch his eye, and he's briefly reminded of another rooftop experience. He raises his eyebrows slightly and sips his drink, confident that he can remain expressionless if he visits her and touches her -- only she would know, and she couldn't react with so many people nearby.

He waits a moment longer, watching her chat with his boss, Sianeh. Then he sees her turn, excuse herself, and make her way towards the bar. He breathes in, glancing down her neckline, the motion of her stride making her breasts bounce gently under the thin fabric of her dress. Thinking about her like this in public is a dangerous game, considering his cock doesn't know he's in public and will make no effort to lay low, but he doesn't care enough to stop himself.

Kala glances softly at him when she reaches the bar. Her brow twitches slightly in concern.

"What are you thinking about?" she murmurs.

He shakes his head in response and sips his drink.

"It wouldn't kill you to have a conversation with your co-workers," she adds, sliding her wine glass to the bartender for a refill.

He shrugs gently. "I'd rather watch you."

"You can watch me at home," says Kala in a light tone, accepting her glass.

He tongues over his bottom lip, then says quietly, "I'm bored."

"Yes..." she says cautiously, sipping her wine.

"I want to visit you," he explains.

One of her brows dips and she slowly lowers her glass.

"So no one can see where I touch you," he adds more quietly to clarify.

She doesn't reply. He studies her expression -- thoughtful lips, a slight wrinkle on her brow, irises flooded with heat and darkness. She works the inside of her cheek in her teeth, unsure, but then she breathes in and softens.

"You want to...touch me...here?" she whispers.

"I'll stop if you ask me to," he says quietly, pulling her closer by her waist. "But don't you want to try this?"

"Yes, I do," she whispers. "But...how will that look? Won't I be...touching myself if--"

 "No, all you need is the image in your mind," he explains. "You just have to want it."

 Kala hesitates, then murmurs in an envious tone, "Have you done this before?"

 He hesitates too, and finally answers, "Yes, but then the woman I did it with tried to kill me, so I think I paid my dues."

 "Men are so stupid," says Kala, touching her fingertips to her forehead as if to soothe a sudden headache.

He nods in agreement.

"You can trust me," he adds after a moment.

She nods. "I know." She takes his hand and lightly plays with his fingers. "I'll tell you to stop if I want you to..." She looks up at him through her lashes. "Though I don't think I'll want you to..."

He takes an indifferent sip of his drink and doesn't respond, but the corner of his mouth twitches, suggesting to her that she'll eat her words.

She rolls her eyes at this and kisses him quickly, then takes his hand and walks with him towards the edge of the roof, where there is a group standing around a small patio fireplace, discussing guardianship laws. They listen for a moment, and then Wolfgang glances at Kala, watching the light from the fire dance on her expression and illuminate the glass she's holding with slender fingers. _Talented fingers_ , he thinks to himself.

He waits for a moment, then visits her -- he holds her from behind and kisses the back of her neck, and though she was anticipating it, she jumps and breathes in sharply. He feels her tingle of excitement as his own and he struggles not to smirk.

He slides his lips behind her ear and kisses her again, messier. Then he glides his hands down her waist, feeling her hip bones slip past his palms under the silk. He notices her hair stand slightly on edge and feels her pulse accelerate. Even after months of being with him, she's still more sensitive to touch than anyone he's ever been with, and he can make her come embarrassingly quickly, which he likes to remind her of often.

He doubts she'll admit how exciting she finds it when they silently communicate their urges to each other in public. He's sure she's slightly ashamed that she likes to be intimate with him while so many people are nearby; she doesn't always understand her impulses and when he presses her to explain what she likes, she falters and flushes.

He pulls his hands up her body, skimming over her breasts to tease her; then he abruptly withdraws his touch, leaving her on the edge. He takes an impassive sip of his drink, showing restraint, more interested in pushing her past her limit than satisfying himself.

She looks at him but he doesn't visit her again. She wrinkles her brow and impatiently sips her drink, and he puts an arm chastely around her waist, smiling lightly at his boss as she walks up to them.

Kala shifts restlessly and asks, “I have to wait?”

He doesn't reply and Sianeh steps closer, grinning at Kala.

"Wow, you got him to come to a party," she says. "I didn't even know he was here."

"He was hiding at the bar," explains Kala with a laugh.

Sianeh adjusts a neon butterfly clip in her hair. "That's what I'd like to do, but I'm aware of basic party etiquette."

Wolfgang laughs quietly and sips his drink. "I'm aware of it."

"Right, you just ignore it like the shameless misanthrope you are," she says with a roll of her eyes, adding with a gasp, "Oh! I found that study for you. The one about non-confrontational homicide."

He nods. "Thanks."

"Non-confrontational homicide?" asks Kala.

"There was a heated debate about whether it should be legal to, say, preemptively kill someone if you think they'll kill you."

"What a good party topic," murmurs Kala, adding, "Heated debate? With Wolfgang? Who's dead?"

Sianeh laughs loudly. "Don't worry, we hid the body."

"Which article?" he asks.

"The one by Brosius, it's great," she replies. "She totally takes on the whole imminence requirement and breaks it down."

"That's jurisdictional though, it doesn't always mean immediate when they say imminent," says Wolfgang.

Kala looks at him as though he spoke a language she doesn't recognize.

"Right!" says Sianeh. "She mentions that in the article, it's an American perspective of course because their laws are fucked, but there was this universally-relatable section about what the word reasonable means in a legal context."

"They have the reasonable man standard?" he checks.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah. And that gets into a whole subjectivity issue. Here..."

She pulls out her phone and starts to swipe. Wolfgang raises his drink to his mouth, then visits Kala, coasting his hand over the top of her ass. She stiffens, surprised, and he drags his touch up her spine and toys with the clasp on the back of her dress; he has no intention of touching her under her clothes, yet, but she doesn't know that. He feels heat spring under his touch, her skin newly flushed, and watches her eyes flicker unsurely.

"This," says Sianeh. "This part is great, it says here...a slight shift of focus reveals that determinations of subjective and objective reasonableness ..."

Wolfgang alters his position as he visits Kala, now behind her, and he slides his hands up her ribs, pausing just below her breasts.

"Right," he says easily, multitasking. "If that's involved in the definition of self-defense, that means only a certain kind of experience is an acceptable justification, which is unfair." He sips his drink and pulls his hands higher, squeezing Kala's breasts, noticing her body slightly jolt. He adds to his boss, "Limits the ability to succeed in court, too."

Kala glances at him. His mouth twitches, but his expression otherwise remains impassive. Kala lifts her glass shakily to her lips, eyes bright and slightly wider than usual, and he senses her heavy, needy buzz, feels her pulse pound as his own for a moment. He also notices, with a touch of complacency, that she's impressed he can remain so detached while he's touching her like this.

He continues the conversation with Sianeh for a moment, touch lingering on Kala's breasts, lightly thumbing over the seams of her dress, which disguise the feeling of her nipples; he considers pulling the fabric away for closer access, but remains patient. Kala's pulse twitches steadily under his touch; he knows what she wants, but he finds it likely that she'll unravel the moment he stops teasing her and starts to touch her in earnest.

He slides his hands down, stopping just under her belly button, then pulls away. He finishes his drink and gestures with the empty glass.

"Excuse me," he says politely, walking back to the bar.

He feels Kala's eyes on him as he disappears and he smirks slightly. He leans against the counter as he accepts a new beer. He lifts the drink to his lips, impassive; then he visits her again, holding her from behind and kissing the back of her neck. She breathes in sharply and jumps, and Sianeh narrows her eyes.

"You okay?" she asks.

"A chill, I just got a chill," says Kala quickly.

She looks over her shoulder at him at the bar and sees his expression is stone-cold.

She turns back to Sianeh and swallows. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Oh, no worries, we were discussing whether children who age out of the system pose a public health issue and whether education is the answer."

"Oh, I think it's part of it, certainly," says Kala brightly, adding, "although education can't replace the security of a permanent home--" 

She stops speaking when Wolfgang coasts his hands over her ass, pausing to squeeze it inconsiderately hard. Her breath jumps in her throat and she hastily drinks her wine to disguise her surprise. Back at the bar, Wolfgang sips his beer and watches her expression transform from initial surprise to involuntary pleasure, and then he visits her again, arms around her from behind, hands skimming over her hip bones. He hesitates just briefly, but his body thinks before his brain, and he can't resist sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh, lifting her dress, playing with the lace hem of her panties. She stiffens, breath abating.

He breathes in the floral scent of her hair, then slips three fingers under the band of her panties. She lets out a very quiet, involuntary moan.

Sianeh gestures at her with a frown. "You okay?"

Wolfgang's confident that Kala will end his life later, but at the moment, he doesn't care.

He brushes his touch upwards, over her belly button, then pulls away. He watches from the bar as she shyly explains herself to his boss ("I'm so sorry, I felt a cramp in my foot.") Another party guest joins them and Kala gratefully steps back, listening rather than participating, drinking her wine.

Wolfgang shifts so he's in front of her, sliding his fingers under the straps of her dress.

"Too much?" he asks, amused.

Kala looks at him defiantly. "No."

He slips the straps over her shoulders so the dress falls slightly, nearly exposing her breasts. She lifts her chin, determined not to tremble or give herself away. Then she reaches out her hand and cups his cock through his jeans. His eyes flash into hers and his mouth waters in anticipation. Her gaze remains steady, but she tilts her head.

"Too much?" she whispers.

He breathes in, drunk on the tone of her voice. Sometimes, not nearly often enough, she loses herself to the moment and her eyes grow wild; sometimes while they're having sex, her touch is rougher and her kisses are insistent. She doesn't give him a moment to breathe or to speak, and it always brings him to his knees; he wants this more often, but isn't sure how to ask her for it; she seems unaware of her own behavior and slips so easily back into her demure self by the time they're coming down.

He shakes his head slightly, watching her with the smallest smirk.

She touches her nose to his and breathes out on his mouth while she strokes him through his jeans. His cock twitches in interest and he looks into her eyes intently. He breathes out through his nose, chest tight with desire, and he sweeps his gaze over her breasts; the silk of her dress is barely concealing them, catching on her stiff nipples. He pulls back slightly, expression impassive save for his eyes, which communicate a deep hunger; he glides his hand up the outside of her thigh, then tugs her panties to the side and slips a finger in between her slick folds.

Her throat flutters with the effort it takes not to gasp or moan, and then she blinks as her name filters into her mind.

"Kala? Kala?" Sianeh waves at her. "You okay? Are you having a stroke?"

"I am...distracted, I’m so sorry."

At the bar, Wolfgang lifts his beer to his mouth, then glances down at himself; he's glad it's dark. He knows he should show restraint -- and he knows Kala's restraint is slipping rapidly away -- but what he should do and what he wants to do are odds. He drinks his beer while he watches Kala, then he slowly lowers the glass; as soon as he relinquishes his grip on it, he visits her and sinks to his knees in front of her. He holds her closer, his hands just under her ass, and kisses the inside of her thigh.

She closes her eyes. He flicks his gaze upward, watches her tilt her head back in pleasure, and kisses her thigh again. He stretches his hands higher and squeezes her ass under her dress, then licks a line up her thigh to the edge of her panties. Then he stands, pulls her closer by the sash of her dress, and kisses her fiercely. She breathes in and her fingers twitch, finding purchase on his shirt.

"I see what you mean," she pants when he pulls away. "You have to want it so it feels real."

She unbuckles his belt and slides her hand under his boxers. He feels the last of his reserve evaporate; he expected Kala to dissolve more quickly than him, but tonight, her eyes are sparkling with the fire that he loves.

"We should go home," he mumbles.

She leans closer while she strokes his length. "But I'm having fun."

"I like it when you're like this," he admits quietly.

She looks at him keenly, struck by the tone of his voice; it's almost shy, and he knows it -- he wonders if she realizes the power she has; if she doesn't, he wants her to. She's usually the confessional one, the one who pauses to whisper if she likes something, the one who melts into the bed and stops breathing, too overwhelmed, and he likes this; he likes the warmth and availability in her eyes, the reality that in moments like these, she exists for him; he likes that he's the first to ask for something, the one who's insistent; but he also likes it when she's bolder -- it strikes a different chord in him, a more dissolute one.

For a moment, he senses her hesitation, a touch of insecurity, as though she's unsure if she can be what he likes. She always follows his lead, but tonight, he wants to follow hers. She breathes in, then nudges her nose against his with more energy than before, twisting her wrist as she touches him; he catches a groan in his throat, and at the bar, drinks his beer to distract himself; he's impressed with her -- he had every intention of teasing her until she demanded to go home, but he finds himself in the place he meant to put her in.

He tips his head back and shuts his eyes when she accelerates her pace. "Fuck..."

The bartender glances at him. "Long day?"

His eyes flash open and he drinks his beer. He looks at Kala across the rooftop and sees her converse with Sianeh, unfazed, then looks at the Kala who is close to him, touching him. She tilts her head and kisses him deeply, quickly, and breathes out as she pulls away. Her eyes are heavy with need, but her plump lips pull at one corner -- almost a smirk, but softer and less playful.

"You're good," he murmurs, glancing over her shoulder at his boss.

"I learned from you," she replies.

"Self-control looks good on you," he says, touching his fingertips to her bottom lip.

She hums in response, then slowly pulls her hand away. He wrinkles his brow and she disappears from view. He shakes his head slightly.

She reappears to whisper in his ear, "You always make _me_ wait" and then she's gone again, visible only across the rooftop.

He glances down, the sudden halt in pleasure jarring him. He leans on the bar, disgruntled, and finishes his beer. He considers visiting her, but then he notices her walk across the rooftop towards him, intentionally swaying her hips, looking down, tucking her hair temptingly behind her ear. She reaches him, but doesn't speak; then she glances at the prominent bulge in his pants and raises her eyebrows.

"Oh," she murmurs in surprise.

He starts to laugh. "What did you expect?"

"I...I thought...since we were only visiting," she trails off, adding in a whisper, "We should go home."

He nods, his pulse up again at the prospect of being alone with her; she gets her purse from the coat-check and they quietly walk down the stairs. She calls a car and they wait in the semi-darkness, glancing gently at each other, speaking with their eyes rather than their voices. Kala smiles faintly as the cab arrives and pulls him playfully into the backseat with her.

She tells the driver the address, then presses closer to Wolfgang; they share a long, exuberant kiss, and then Kala softens, pulls away, and breathes out gently; the tone changes, her hands shake slightly as she guides them down his body. He watches her mind turn and he squeezes her waist, then thumbs over her hip bones, deciding where to touch her next; he isn't surprised by how often he wants her -- wanting sex every day has been his reality since the first time he was with a girl. But he is surprised by how new she feels each time; she's his Kala, by now he knows the details of her body better than his own, but each experience with her somehow feels distinct.

He tilts his face for another kiss, growling quietly in approval when she opens her mouth and tongues over his bottom lip. She smiles slightly and he holds her closer, sliding a hand up her thigh and squeezing the tissue in between his fingers, just hard enough to sting slightly; she breathes in, grinning now; they kiss again as he drags his fingers up, over the lowest part of her tummy, and to her other thigh to do the same. She spreads her legs slightly wider, inviting his touch; then she remembers they're in a cab together. She neatly crosses her legs and glances cautiously at the driver.

Wolfgang chuckles at this, moving his mouth to her neck, closing his eyes to let the moment linger; he loves her neck; her skin tastes sweet here and he can feel her pulse under his tongue. She breathes in to steady herself, then turns, her mouth finding his.

She glances down as he pulls away, heat in her cheeks; he stares as she blinks with full lashes, as her lips quiver slightly. Her expression is suddenly vulnerable, the boldness she showed on the rooftop now a memory; she seems able to sustain it only temporarily before she remembers she's being intimate with a man which, he thinks, still conflicts with her self-conception. She owns her feelings in the moment, but he's noticed she always stays awake longer after sex; her expression is always peaceful, but contemplative, as if she's studying herself.

He hesitates for a moment, watching her, wondering if wanting her to be bold is unfair. He pulls her hand away from her lap and gently twines their fingers.

"Kala?" he says softly. "Was that okay?"

She looks up. "What?"

"On the rooftop," he says.

She nods. "It was, I just...surprised myself."

He nods too, more slowly. "You never have to say yes to something because you think I'll like it."

"I like what you like," she murmurs with a smile. "But you've felt these things since you were a teenager and I've only felt them with you." She glances down. "Sometimes I think too much."

"Sometimes I don't think enough," he replies.

She shakes her head, taking his other hand and squeezing both. "No. I've never felt as safe as I do with you." Her smile widens. "And I like it when we do things I've never thought to do because I want to try everything with you. I want to feel everything it is possible to feel."

He tucks her hair behind her ear as the cab turns onto their street. He smiles faintly.

"I'm not too much for you?"

"Oh, you are," she laughs. "But I like it."

"Sometimes I'm afraid I don't understand you--"

She puts her hands on his chest. "You do. You do."

He looks into her eyes. "How are you sure?"

She wets her lips as she forms her response, and after a moment, murmurs, "Because the first night we spent together, it would have been easy for you to assume. But you asked me if I was sure that I wanted to sleep with you." She smiles. "I know you doubt sometimes how good you are but Wolfgang, that is something men never ask."

His jaw tenses. "I know what it's like."

She nods and presses closer, gaze downcast as she thinks. Finally she replies, "I never do something I don't want to do. But I...I love making you..." Her skin flushes and she pauses. He lifts her chin with a gentle finger and she smiles. "I like to turn you on and if you ever...want something..."

He nods, smiling too.

She breathes in sharply. "I'm so inarticulate, I'm sorry. Being with you, like this, is...intense for me." 

They get out and walk into the hall of the apartment building, the light from the street throwing long shadows onto the floor as they open the door. They continue into their apartment. Wolfgang locks the door and Kala waits, watching him, and then nudges him towards the couch. He looks at her in surprise but lets her guide him backward until his legs hit the cushions and he has to sit. She smiles tentatively and turns around, gesturing at her zipper.

"Could you?" she murmurs.

He unzips it for her and her dress falls away. She kicks her heels to the side, losing several inches in height, then puts her knee on the couch between his legs and sinks onto his lap. He steadies her and she smiles.

He laughs. "The couch?"

"I like the couch," she defends softly.

He nods, gliding his hands up her ribs and teasing the embroidered edge of her scalloped grey bra. He leans up, capturing her in a kiss, smiling slightly at the feeling of her plump lips and the taste of her mouth. Her bra straps fall over her shoulders as she stretches against him, body flexing, and he presses his hips up, his cock driven against her pelvis. She breathes in and he puts his arms around her, drawing her closer, sweat springing on his skin at the contact, at the prospect of being inside of her; sometimes it's all he thinks about, lost and drifting on a sea of want; he's never felt closer to her than in these moments, and he knows she feels the same.

He shifts his face, pressing it into her neck; he kisses her roughly under her jaw, then pulls his touch down her arms and takes her hands briefly; then she raises her hands and lifts his shirt over his head; she takes her fingers thoughtfully down his still-scarred chest and pauses to brush over his nipples, then lets her fingertips rest on his top rib bone. She tilts her head as she rocks closer, and he swallows, tracing his thumbs along the outline of her bra, studying the crest of each of her breasts. Then he reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, and it slips on her body.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and softly grins, the bra still concealing her, and she looks at him with a playful question in her eyes. Then she tugs the bra slightly lower, teasing him, and he chuckles and kisses her deeply. She grins against his lips and lets the bra fall completely and his hands seek her breasts, a gentle squeeze at first, then a forceful one as the kiss intensifies. He feels her skin prickle slightly under his touch, feels her nipples harden; he slides his hands along the underside of her breasts, thumbs pressing into her sternum; then he moves his palms slowly upwards, sinking in the way she melts under his touch, in the difference of her body next to his. She tilts her head back and moans as the kiss fades, hips bent closer to his. He urges her to arch her back and kisses her in between her breasts, then kisses a small freckle to the left of her bellybutton.

He wants to push her back, spread her legs on the coffee table, and lean forward to taste her; but her grip is insistent on his arms and he knows she wants to be fucked, so he circles her waist with his arms, immersed in her hot, dewy skin; her heat is something he loves during sex. He pulls her closer and nips gently on one of her nipples and her mouth splits into a surprised grin; a small laugh escapes and then she groans loudly as he lathes over the same nipple; he shifts to repeat this on the other one, then tips his face up and kisses her collarbone and the stretch of muscle between her shoulder and her neck; he bites this gently before sucking her skin into his mouth and leaving a pink mark on her tawny skin.

She breathes in, ribs closer to his, breasts inclined upward. He smooths his fingers along the shallow notch in her spine where her back blends with her hips, hands catching on the fabric of her panties, which are translucent gray; sometimes he likes to fuck her in lingerie, but holding her while she's naked overwhelms him; he tugs at the side of the panties and she smiles, cheeks washed with color.

She gracefully extends a leg behind her and stands, then works her panties down her legs. He drowns in the image, and grunts softly in appreciation when he notices a glint of wetness between her thighs. He reaches out, two fingers slick on the lips of her pussy, and thumbs gently over her tuft of dark hair. She shivers as he presses his fingers deeper.

"Come here," he says quietly, seriously, pulling away, sliding his fingers together, slick with her milky, sweet fluid.

She breathes out and comes closer; he slides his hands around her body and over her ass, pausing to squeeze it, revelling for a moment in her pliancy and curves. She smiles to herself, which he catches, and he gives one of her cheeks a gentle slap and brings her closer. She laughs indulgently, softening, and bends to unbuckle his belt. He likes to watch her at this angle, her head tipped down, hair cascading, the bridge of her nose gathering light, her breasts hanging low while her hands work to undress him. He drags a thumb over her cheekbone while he watches, and then he stands to cast his pants and boxers side. He's harder than he realized and she takes his length immediately in her hand. He breathes in, watching her fingers adapt around his cock, a feeling of falling, catching himself just in time; no image hits him quite like this one.

She urges him back onto the couch, settling above him, balanced above his cock; her touch slips away and he takes his length in his hand, guiding himself towards her; he slides slowly in between her folds, the head of his cock connecting with her clit; she stops breathing and he teases her like this for a moment while she moans softly, head back.

"Watch," he says as he glides against her clit again.

She swallows and looks down. She grinds gently, matching his movement. Then she says in a breathy, overcome whisper, "Oh!" and he looks at her in satisfaction. She blushes, then covers her face.

"Oh," she murmurs.

"I like to know what you like," he mumbles.

"Does this feel good for you too?" she replies.

He nods and she tucks her hair shyly away.

"I think we can...feel each other's...pleasure. Sometimes when we're together I..." She pauses and shakes her head.

"What?" he prompts, still moving against her.

"I see myself as if I were you," she explains.

He nods. "The same happens to me."

"I can feel what you feel and...well, when you're..." She pauses again, closing her eyes. "When you're inside of me, it's like my heart is going to burst, but it's your heart."

He nods again.

"But you've...you've had so much more sex than me--"

"It's different with you," he tells her. "It always has been."

She looks down, expression mild, and he trails his touch from a strand of her hair to the side of her breast to her hip.

"I love you," he explains quietly, "and I'm aware of that when I'm with you. It never used to be important to me how the woman felt but it is with you." He pauses, then glances down and says earnestly, "Fuck, I love to make you come."

Her hair stands on end and her grasp tightens. Then she mumbles, "Then make me come."

He grips her closer and glances down, watching as he slides his cock over her clit for a final time.

"You...you can..." She stops to breathe, and says in a jumble, "You can be rough if you like."

"You like that?"

"I like that," she says in a heavy, enthusiastic tone.

He nods gently, then shifts and pushes into her -- it's effortless, she's soaked. She lifts as he thrusts, following his movement, riding him; she smiles at the sound of their bodies together, and then he holds her closer, hands half on her breasts, half stroking her arms and ribs.

She lifts, sinking deeply over him each time, feeling him in the bottom of her tummy as he slams into her. He groans at her heat around him, opening his eyes and taking in her lustrous skin, rigid dark nipples, breasts bouncing; he lets his head fall forward and he kisses her neck hungrily, breathing in the earthy scent of sex and sweat; her hips flex, admitting him deeper, and she moans loudly.

He groans with her, rocking into her more quickly, grip biting into the skin of her back. Her head angles back, neck exposed, and she shudders in pleasure; this image causes his muscles to jump with renewed energy and he shoves into her more forcefully for several minutes. She gently cries out and he feels his cock twitch and swell inside her warmth; he fucks her for another moment, listening to her mess of whines and gasps; just as he grunts, at the edge, he feels her pound powerfully around him; she opens her mouth, ecstatic, and she moans weakly as she comes, as he comes inside of her.

She holds like this for a moment, head back, sweat beading over her breasts; he tips his head down, sweat gathering on the tip of his nose, muscles tight with exertion.

"Wolfgang," she breathes, trembling all over. " _Oh_. Oh, Wolfgang."

He holds her closer, tucking his face against the damp skin of her shoulder, shuddering slightly with effort, dizzy from coming so hard.

"Fuck," he mumbles.

She breathes out, overwhelmed, and squeezes his shoulders. They relax against each other after a moment, bodies close and hot; Kala leans her head back and lifts up so he can pull out, then grins brightly at the ceiling.

“Oh, Wolfgang,” she repeats in a mumble, trailing off with a sated laugh.

He runs his hands down her arms and her body twitches from the attention, overstimulated. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the illumination from the street, watching the blue-pink light play in stripes over her damp skin. Then she rests her face against his neck and he hugs her close, breath evening out, and he closes his eyes, grateful.

“Nothing feels like you,” he says quietly.

He feels her lips twitch against his neck -- a surprised smile -- and he looks down, smiling distantly. Then he shifts so they’re lying together, her palm on his chest, his hand cupping her hip. They kiss sleepily for a few minutes, both breaking away to smile too often, and then he reaches for a package of cigarettes on the side table. He lights one and breathes in, resting his head on her while she combs her fingers through his hair. Then they glance at each other and he touches his fingers to her lips, an unspoken affirmation. She grins gently and kisses him as he pulls his cigarette away, then nuzzles her face into his neck. He holds her closer with one arm, eyes seeking the ceiling as he smokes, and he smiles faintly.


	35. April 13, 8:46 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang gets a glimpse of Kala's past. Kala makes modak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've endlessly discussed Wolfgang's past in the fic, but haven't given Kala the same attention, plus I feel this chapter covers a topic that they would need to talk about before getting married *shrugs*
> 
> I know this is a short chapter, but big bachelor party/bachelorette party chapters are coming up ;)

Kala finely dices some sweet coconut while Wolfgang sits at the kitchen table, working on his laptop with a typical disgruntled expression. The light above the sink trembles slightly as yet another blast of thunder shakes the city. Kala tilts her head to see under the shade.

"I think it's getting close," she murmurs, reaching for a tin of cardamom pods.

"It's fine," he says.

"I don't know," she says doubtfully.

Her lips twitch in concern, but she goes back to her place at the counter, placing some water on the stove to boil. She measures some rice flour and glances at Wolfgang, who's pressing his fingertips together as if contemplating the destruction of his laptop.

"Emails?" she asks.

He nods listlessly, and then lightning flashes outside, followed immediately by a crack of thunder, and he glances up. "Maybe you're right."

She hums in response, vigorously stirring some rice flour into the boiling water. Her hair has a characteristic frizz to it that indicates she's agitated about something.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I just want to finish these," she says evasively.

He nods, going back to his work. He jots a note about plane tickets, and then the apartment shakes and all the lights go out.

Kala swears loudly in Hindi and Wolfgang looks at her in surprise. She throws her kitchen towel to the side, leans on the counter, and hugs herself. His brow twitches in concern and he gets to his feet, opening a kitchen drawer and taking out a box of votive candles. He sets several near her and strikes a match to light them, and then he looks at her in the soft light and sees she's crying.

"Kala?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "It's nothing."

His jaw tenses in annoyance at this, but he doesn't respond. He squeezes her arm gently and takes the bowl of dough out of her hands, opening a jar of ghee and adding some. She looks at him in surprise.

"I see you make these every week," he explains quietly, reaching for the spoon. "I can help."

She watches him for a moment, then sniffles and adds the coconut to a new bowl, mixing it with jaggery and spices. They work in the low light together for a moment, and then Kala abruptly shoves the bowl away and starts to cry in earnest.

"Kala," he says gently, reaching for her.

She shakes her head and takes a step back.

"What's going on?" he asks sharply.

She wipes her eyes and gestures as if lost for words, then finally hisses, "Daya called earlier."

He frowns. "Is she okay, is the baby--"

"They're fine," Kala says in annoyance. "She just...she started asking me about the wedding and how the planning is going and she...well, she said I'm lucky to have another wedding at all, let alone a nice one, because most women just remarry quietly and don't talk about it because it's so shameful."

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows, then reaches for his phone.

Kala rushes to take it out of his hands. "No, no, you cannot call my pregnant sister and yell at her!"

"Why not?" he asks tersely.

"Because she's right--"

Wolfgang breathes out heavily. "Kala, why do you do this?"

She shakes her head, not speaking, and takes the bowl of dough from him; she begins to shape the modak with her hands, tears streaming.

"Kala," he says again.

She shakes her head once more.

He rubs the back of his neck, unsure what to say. She keeps shaping the modak, sniffling, tossing them haphazardly into the steamer basket.

"I need to make these," she says frantically. "I just need to make these." Then she tilts her head down, sobs, and says in a high, breathy voice, "I'm going to be turned into an insect."

Wolfgang stares at her, then blinks. "What?"

"That's what my aunt told me as a child," she explains. "She told me anyone who is unfaithful is reborn as an insect and then they're eaten."

Wolfgang searches for an appropriate response to this, but he's not sure anyone has ever said something to him that he found so immediately and incontestably irrational. He's unsure why any reasonable adult would tell a child something like this.

"And remarriage is inconceivable," she goes on, "it simply isn't done, and if it is, it's considered very selfish to invite anyone or to celebrate, that's the punishment for divorce, of course..."

"Did Daya tell you all this?" he asks quietly.

"Well, she reminded me, yes, I think she was trying to joke about it, but..."

Wolfgang battles the urge to take his phone back and shout at Daya for being inconsiderate and ignorant.

"I did so many terrible things," whispers Kala miserably, wiping her eyes with her arm. "I did so many terrible things and I'm expecting this to help." She pushes the basket of modak away from her roughly. "I'm so foolish--"

He tries to pull her into his arms to comfort her, but she pushes him away, steps back, and hugs herself. She stares at the floor, crying again, and he watches her for a moment as lightning silhouettes her.

Then he sets his jaw, rights the basket of modak, and begins to shape the dough the way she was. She watches him expressionlessly for a moment, then sits at the kitchen table and drinks her tea which has long gone cold.

He doesn't understand how anyone can believe that an unseen force will one day hold them accountable for every misguided action taken during a lifetime. He doesn't understand why anyone finds this belief comforting, though he remembers his mother explaining that the idea of a final judgment kept her above water; if she couldn't punish everyone who hurt her, God could. But this isn't Kala's motivation for her faith -- he knows hers is more complex and likely deeper.

He bites his bottom lip and glances at the misshapen modak in his hands, and suddenly he's standing in a colorful, raucous kitchen, staring up at Sanyam, who's mixing something in a bowl. He looks at his hands -- now the hands of a six-year-old girl -- and sees a small, poorly-shaped modak.

"It doesn't look right," complains little Kala.

"It doesn't have to be perfect," says Sanyam.

"Yes it does, I want to try again," says Kala.

Sanyam chuckles and gives her another piece of dough to work with. Her pulse flutters in anticipation, anxiety, shame.

"I'm not good at this," she says as she crimps it at the edges.

"Well, it takes practice, but it's the effort that counts."

"But..." Kala huffs and shakes her head, braids flying. "But doesn't he want something pretty?"

"Ganesh?" asks Sanyam, smiling. "No, beta. He just wants whatever you make."

"Well, I want them to be pretty..."

The sound of the downpour outside startles Wolfgang back to present day. He looks at Kala cautiously, unsure if she's aware he can see what she's remembering, suddenly concerned what memories of his that she's glimpsed.

Before he can tell her that he's seeing her memories, the kitchen transforms again and he finds himself in a crowd, sticky with sweat, jostling among revelers in the tropical sun. A powerful sensation of hope, excitement, the purest joy that only children are capable of. He watches as huge, ornate floats pass by in the street and sinks in a feeling of genuine confidence and stability that is unrecognizable to him.

He returns again to the kitchen as thunder jolts the apartment, but is immediately taken into a new memory -- Kala's bedroom, which he recognizes. She paces, and he paces in her place, looking down at her hands as if they're his own; she's wearing an engagement ring, adapting to the weight of it on her finger. She takes it off, then puts it back on, then repeats herself, mumbling "oh God..." in panic.

She takes the ring off and sets it on her dresser, stares at it for a moment, and then puts it on again. She turns it over on her slim finger, flexing her knuckles, examining it at every angle. She takes it off once more, clenching her fist gently around it, mind swelling with tiny, repeated thoughts, droplets of water filling a bucket slowly but inevitably. _What have I done? What have I done?_

He returns to the kitchen, staring at her as she sits at the table, head bowed. He feels a twinge of guilt for being impatient with her before; these images explain her pattern of indecision and hesitation. As he watches her, the scene transforms again; when he looks down this time, he sees slim arms with extensive henna tattoos, several pairs of weathered, maternal hands working to add more to the design.

"Mom?"

A shaky voice, barely disguising terror.

"Hm?"

"How did you feel about dad at this point?"

Wolfgang experiences the same surge of nausea that Kala felt in the moment; the same desire to run wildly down the street and not return; the same all-consuming dread which reminds him distinctly of the way his stomach would drop when he heard the door open late at night, his father returning home from hours of drinking.

"Were you nervous? Excited? Did you think dad was going to make you happy?"

"Things were much different then," chuckles Priya. "Love marriages were not very common. I think you are the first in the family, in fact, to marry for love."

A sinking, sick sense of panic. The rooftop, decorated with lights and crimson paper balloons, begins to slip away. A joke about astrology, a mention of children. She looks around, frantic, searching for something, someone to distract her, looking for... _me_ , Wolfgang realizes.

He looks at her in the kitchen, one of the candles now extinguished from a draft, smoke rising gently towards the ceiling.

"I didn't understand how scared you were," he says gently.

She looks up with a soft gasp, eyes widening in realization.

"You...you saw," she whispers.

He nods, crossing the kitchen to sit with her. "I didn't mean to."

She tucks her hair cautiously behind her ear. "Yes, I've...seen some things I didn't mean to."

He nods again, setting his hand upturned on her knee so she holds it. "I'm sorry I didn't visit you then. I was..." He tries to remember. "Distracted with my uncle."

She exhales through trembling lips. "I don't know what I would have done if you visited me. I...I wanted to admit that I didn't love him, and I couldn't say that to my mother, obviously...but if I had said that to you..."

"I would have told you not to marry him," he says.

She nods, sniffling. "But it was too late."

He squeezes her hand gently. "I don't understand how you hid so much from your family."

She smiles weakly. "Oh, a lifetime of practice, swallowing what I didn't want to hear and doing what I didn't want to do...the alternative always felt selfish to me. Tell my mother the night before my wedding that I'm unsure? Unthinkable..."

He nods in recognition and then his lips form a faint smile. "We were both hiding something that day. Sergei had asked me what happened with the diamonds, I had to pretend."

She smiles too. "This is why we met in the bathrooms later. We were feeling the same things. Well, by then you were completely drunk and I had never felt more sober in my life, but..."

He laughs quietly, then softens and meets her eyes.

"Why do you hold yourself to these standards?" he asks. "You'd never hold others to them, is your family really so devout--"

"No, no, I am," she whispers. "It makes me feel connected and when I was a child it was impossible to conceive I would ever do anything terribly wrong, and it's easy to be faithful when you don't think you'll ever act against your beliefs." She pauses and wets her lips in thought. "My parents were quite lenient, you know, so whenever I felt I did something wrong, I would...skip a meal, or not let myself listen to music for a week. Sometimes I would..." She trails off, glancing at him. "Well, I wished someone would hit me or lock me in my room because then the guilt would go away."

He looks at her for a moment and finally murmurs, "What?"

She nods. "I know how that must sound to you."

He shakes his head slightly. "I don't understand."

"I know how unhealthy that was," she says. "But I always felt...well, I always felt I was doing something wrong, so when I was older and I did things that actually were wrong...it was impossible for me to contend with. I think I believed that I deserved an unhappy marriage because I was selfish enough to think of another man." She pauses to breathe, and goes on quickly, "And after we slept together, I was never so conflicted in my life as I was then, because I had finally...given Rajan what he expected of me as a wife, but I wasn't truly with him, I was with you and I was terrified that I wouldn't find the courage to choose one of you and I would keep...visiting you to avoid being with him, which wouldn't have been fair to any of us, but I didn't know how to stop because the idea of being with him, actually being present with him..." She shakes her head. "I couldn't do it. In fact, I don't think I could be with you if we weren't Sensates."

He raises his eyebrows in interest. "Really?"

She nods guardedly. "Sapiens can never truly know about someone else's feelings and...I need that to feel attraction, without it I'm too frightened." She sniffles. "I'm rather cowardly, aren't I?"

"No, that's not something you're in control of," he says quietly. "It's just who you are."

"Do you think I'm...abnormal or...?"

"No," he says warmly, taking her other hand and squeezing it.

She nods, listening to the storm thrash the trees outside, adding after a moment, "I was petrified from the time I was a child to get married or have children but I felt I had to, and I'm realizing now I set the trap for myself, my parents would have understood eventually, they would have accepted me, but I told myself I wouldn't be as admired in God's eyes if I didn't...do what was expected of all women to do."

"You don't have to believe these things," he says after a moment.

"I want to believe some of them. I can't describe it but I feel differently when I'm in a temple, when I'm praying. I don't want to lose that."

"Do you think you can keep that without believing that you're...a bad person for choosing a different life?"

"That's what I'm trying to do," she murmurs, moving her hair over one shoulder and dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her robe.

He nods, then rubs her arms and says heavily, "Oh, babe."

She sniffles and laughs sadly. "I know. I wish I could let it go, but it isn't so easy, and it doesn't help when Daya says things to scare me. She also asked how we're paying for everything repeatedly and I couldn't get angry with her because she's pregnant."

He clicks his tongue quietly on his teeth. "I'm not above yelling at a pregnant woman, I'll call her."

Kala laughs and gently touches his chest. "I love it when you fight for me but I don't think you should lecture a woman who's two days from her delivery date."

"That soon?" he asks.

She rolls her eyes fondly. "Yes. Soon we'll have a little nephew running around, judging us for our financial situation like his mother."

He laughs quietly and she smiles again, and then she squeezes his arms and meets his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I should have told you what I was thinking about but...I was worried you might be angry with me."

He frowns. "Why?"

She shrugs. "I know you think I pay too much attention to what my family says to me."

"You do, but you can't always help it," he says kindly.

She sniffles again and smiles. "I'm glad you're always honest with me."

He nods.

"No," she says seriously. "It would be so easy for you to...validate feelings I have that are unhealthy or misguided but you don't."

"And you don't with me," he agrees.

She smiles and gets up, wiping her eyes a last time, and goes over to the counter. She relights the candle that burned out, then glances into the steamer basket.

"Ooh, these are beautiful, Wolfgang," she says sarcastically.

He snorts and gets up, hugging her from behind. "Nicer than yours."

She holds up a particularly lumpy modak. "It looks a bit like...mashed potatoes."

"Sure you want to use these considering some of them were made by a nonbeliever?"

She grins. "It's okay."

She adjusts the steaming basket and puts the pot over the heat, covering it with a lid. She sets a timer, then steps back to look out the window as rain drives against it forcefully. Thunder rumbles and she retreats from the window a few feet, letting Wolfgang pull her into another hug.

She smiles widely and tucks her face against his chest.

"I don't know what I would do without you," she mumbles as she listens to the boiling water burble and the rain drum on the roof.

"I feel the same," he says.

She tilts her head up to look at him and smiles distantly as lightning illuminates their small kitchen.

"If we have children, I hope we don't confuse them terribly," she muses.

He shakes his head and says, "They'll be okay," adding with a playful shrug, "as long as you don't tell them they'll be reborn as insects."

She sighs. "I won't." Then she tilts her head, reconsidering. "Maybe to threaten them if they won't do their homework."

He laughs and she grins playfully. He pulls her a little closer and they look at each other with affection.

"Thank you for letting me talk," she murmurs.

He nods. "I'm trying to be a good boyfriend." He pauses. "Fiancé."

"Husband," she says warmly.

He smiles at this and kisses her quickly. "We still have a month."

She nods. "You still have time to escape."

He laughs and she nudges her nose gently against his, and then he hugs her closer and they stay like this, listening to the storm intensify until the timer rings.


	36. May 20, 11:37 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix throws a bachelor party for Wolfgang with help from the Cluster. Too much vodka is consumed, embarrassing stories are shared, and sappy songs are sung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a Verner arc in this chapter and the next one because I love them!

Wolfgang glances at Kala as she turns a tin of coffee upside down and inspects the inside of it.

"How are we out of coffee again?" she murmurs.

He chuckles and continues to wash dishes. "I drink too much of it."

"You do," she says, adding coffee to the list and looking it over.

He notices her eyes crinkle in amusement and he raises his brows at her.

"Coffee, beer, potatoes, vodka, and milk...is this all you ate before you met me?" She shakes her head and adds a few items. "Do you want anything else from the store? Other than aspirin, crackers, and ginger ale for tomorrow when you're hungover and probably injured?"

He grins and puts a plate in the dish rack. "It's just a bachelor party, babe."

Felix planned the party meticulously while Dani planned Kala's -- they set the dates a week apart, giving the Cluster and their friends a final vacation in Berlin before Kala and Wolfgang move away.

"A bachelor party that Felix planned," Kala says, adding, "did he hire strippers? Because--"

"Do you think I would let him do that?" murmurs Wolfgang with a slight bite to his voice.

Kala softens, folding the list. "No."

"He did try," admits Wolfgang, imitating Felix when he continues, "What do you mean you've never been to a strip club? How has a mobster never gone to a strip club? You've never even had a lap dance, you really want to die without trying that?"

Kala laughs at the impression, then pauses, looking down to hide a smirk. "You won't necessarily have to die without trying that..."

He pauses with a soapy glass in his hand, then grins gently, dries his hands, and tugs her into a kiss.

"Like that idea?" she laughs, putting her arms around his neck.

He nods and kisses her again; she smiles against his lips, then playfully bumps her nose against his.

"Please be careful tonight," she says.

Wolfgang nods. He agrees with Kala that the bachelor party shouldn't have been entrusted to Felix, considering his idea of fun tends to result in criminal behavior, injuries, and the consumption of enough vodka to get an elephant drunk, but Felix is his brother and none of his Cluster-mates wanted to take the honor away from him.

"I'll be careful," he promises.

"Okay. You can always visit me if something goes wrong."  
  
He nods and goes back to washing dishes, then glances up as Felix comes through the front door, weighed down by several bags. He's wearing a shirt patterned with stars and galaxies, as well as a frizzy silver scarf.

"Ready to get fucked up?" Felix asks Wolfgang, adding as he gestures with the bags, "look man, you are not wearing fucking black today, Lito and I made a pact." He turns over his shoulder and yells, "Lito! Where are you?"

Lito enters the kitchen in a shirt patterned with pineapples, sporting gold sunglasses. He grins blindingly at them all.

"Not even a month away!" he says. "I'm overwhelmed."

"Yes, please make sure my fiancé stays alive tonight," murmurs Kala.

"That is Will's job," says Lito.

Will, who's coming through the front door with a box, immediately says, "Nope, I'm done with that, you guys have to exercise some self-control."

Mun follows. "I'm not responsible for any of you either."

Then Hernando, Capheus, and Dani enter the apartment -- Dani is wearing a short white dress patterned with rainbow-colored feathers. It looks suspiciously like something Felix would pick...like something Felix did pick. She's also wearing her OMG earrings. Hernando is wearing a polo shirt with an illustration on the front -- a superb drawing of Checkov in a party hat. Capheus has on a tank top patterned with butterflies, as well as a stylish Hamburg hat.

Wolfgang glances at Will and Mun, who are also dressed in an unusual amount of color, and narrows his eyes.

"Why are you all dressed like that?"

"My rules," says Felix excitedly.

Wolfgang's eyes flicker in annoyance and he shakes his head. "Felix..."

"Don't complain," says Felix brightly. "It's your fucking bachelor party, not a funeral."

"You," says Lito, pointing at Wolfgang as he walks towards the bedroom. "Come in here, we have something for you."

Wolfgang meets Kala's eyes as if asking for help; she laughs quietly, pushing him after Lito and Felix. Once inside the bedroom, Felix throws all his bags on the bed and beckons Lito closer. Lito extracts a bright orange blazer and Wolfgang takes a step back.

"No."

"Yes," says Felix firmly. "You're going to be too drunk to care soon anyway."

Felix and Lito talk for a moment, pulling out other colorful articles of clothing, shoes, and accessories, while Wolfgang groans internally. After a moment, Felix shoves a new blazer, a button-up shirt, jeans, and shoes into Wolfgang's arms.

"Go put those on," he says.

"Fuck both of you," Wolfgang murmurs, hoping his tone doesn't betray the affection he feels for them.

He goes into the bathroom, shuts the door, and holds up the jacket, which is bright green; he supposes this could be worse. Then he looks at the shirt, which is bubblegum pink and patterned with elephants.

"Are you kidding?" he calls through the door.

"This is part of the bachelor party hazing process!" shouts Felix.

He looks at the jeans, turning them around to ensure that there isn't a suggestive word written in glitter across the butt; then he glances at the shoes -- sapphire blue wingtips.

He leans on the counter for a moment, grieving his pride since it will never recover from this. Then he puts the clothes on and goes back into the bedroom.

"Hm," murmurs Lito, scrutinizing him. "The shoes and the blazer do not work."

Felix nods. "Too contrasting."

Lito nods, then turns his thumb downward. "Get rid of the blazer."

"Try this," says Felix, handing over a royal blue one instead.

Wolfgang exchanges the jackets, and while he's adjusting the sleeves, he casually murmurs, "It's not too late to kill you."

Felix grins, stepping back. "You look exactly as dumb as we wanted you to."

Lito laughs and pulls Wolfgang closer by his arm, proceeding to roll up the sleeves of the jacket, then gestures at his belt.

"Tuck your shirt in," he instructs, adding once this is done, "now, sunglasses."

He pulls out a pair of sunglasses. The lenses are shaped like beers, and on the side, it says "brews before I do's." Wolfgang stares at them for a moment, unsure whether he's amused or frustrated by how unnecessary this entire event is.

"Where did you even find those?" he asks.

"We got so much shit online," says Felix excitedly, walking around the bed and gesturing. "Dani and I found this website with a lot of party stuff and bought it all together since she planned Kala's party."

Wolfgang narrows his eyes, opening one of the bags and looking inside; he finds several boxes containing inflatable pool floats shaped like penises. He holds one up.

"Subtle," he says.

"Those are for the bachelorette party," explains Felix, sniggering.

Wolfgang snorts and drops the box in the bag. He takes the sunglasses from Lito and puts them on the top of his head, and then the three of them return to the kitchen, where the others are gathered around, talking with Kala. Will glances at Wolfgang and grins.

"Hot."

"Fuck off."

Kala looks up and immediately laughs into her hands. "Oh my God! Oh, you look cute actually, pink is a good color on you." She closes the distance between them and runs her hands along his chest. "And elephants! Aw, Felix how did you know?"

"He mentioned you like elephants," says Felix with a shrug. "Had to pick something appropriate."

Kala beams and kisses Wolfgang quickly. "Okay, be careful."

He nods, then glances at Dani as she holds some keys high above her head and shakes them.

"I'm the designated driver, dummy," she explains at Wolfgang questioning gaze. "And Felix will be the DD for the ladies next week. Is everyone ready?"

Wolfgang glances around at the others -- all smiling jovially, seemingly unconcerned with their bad fashion choices -- and breathes out. He looks at Kala.

"Do I have to?"

"Go, you'll have fun," she says, kissing him again.

"Aren't you sick of each other yet?" calls Dani.

Another kiss. "Please stay safe." And another. "Don't get arrested."

He rolls his eyes and kisses her a final time, then follows the others out of the apartment and onto the sunny street, where a large SUV is waiting.

"I've never driven a car this big before," Dani says brightly.

Wolfgang nods. "Great."

They all get in, and Wolfgang glances out the window to wave with trepidation at Kala, who is frowning slightly in the doorway. Then he relaxes against the leather interior of the car and looks at Felix next to him, who grins.

"Fuck, congratulations man, I can't believe you're getting married next month," he mutters, shaking his head. Then he points at him. "Your life is changing though, so this is our last hurrah, and it's going to be fucking ridiculous. You think we were drunk the night we celebrated about the diamonds? Fuck no. We're gonna make that night look like fucking nothing."

Wolfgang laughs, relaxing, and shakes Felix's shoulder gently. "Okay, Felix. I trust you with my life."

"You shouldn't."

Wolfgang laughs again and lets go of Felix. Felix touches Dani's arm and gestures at the stereo, and she plugs her phone in, the car swerving slightly.

"Watch the road," mutters Wolfgang.

"The man who once crashed a brand new Audi while driving illegally at age sixteen is criticising my driving? I don't think so."

Wolfgang shakes his head. The music blares after a moment, bass-heavy and deafening. _You spin my head right-round, when you go down, when you go down-down..._

Hernando squints, leaning forward. "Is this song about oral sex?"

Dani nods, "Yes," and Felix simultaneously says, "No, it's about dancing."

They look at each other with raised eyebrows, then laugh loudly.

Capheus nudges Wolfgang from the back. "Where are we going first?"

"Ask Felix," says Wolfgang.

"Nope!" says Felix. "It's a surprise." He adds to Dani, "Left turn."

She wrinkles her nose as she turns. "This car is big, no promises about not running over a parking meter..."

"Or a family of five," mutters Wolfgang.

"I'm not going to run anyone down, Wolfgang!" says Dani.

He shakes his head and glances outside as they make their way toward Prenzlauer Berg. The song changes ( _Girls, girls, girls! Long legs and burgundy lips..._ ) and Dani sighs.

"Okay, fuck this playlist," she says.

"Agreed," says Felix.

Capheus sighs in relief. "I was getting very uncomfortable."

Everyone laughs and Dani fiddles with her phone, selecting something new. They speed past a large mustard-colored church and down a side street for ten minutes, and then Dani jostles the car into a slightly-too-small parking space, rocking over the curb.

She nods. "Good enough."

"You're a worse driver than Felix, you're meant for each other," says Wolfgang.

Everyone gets out, except Dani, who pulls away and heads towards a different venue, intending on decorating it. Felix claps his hands together.

"Who's ready to get ass over tit?" he asks as they walk down the street toward a brewhouse.

"What is this expression?" Capheus asks Hernando, squinting.

Hernando shakes his head. "I do not know." He gestures with his hands, envisioning. "Ass, over tit. I think he means so drunk that we'll see everything upside-down."

Wolfgang listens in, chuckling. They reach the door to the brewhouse and Felix opens it, waving them all through it in a princely fashion.

Wolfgang stops to glance at him. "The fuck are you doing?"

He shrugs. "Dani and I were watching the Royal Wedding last night. Got me in the mood."

Wolfgang snorts and passes him, and he catches up after a moment as they walk down a dimly-lit passage towards a large hall. Felix nudges him to continue ahead of the rest.

"Go on, want to have a private word," he explains.

Wolfgang narrows his eyes and walks ahead of them to find a table, but he immediately visits Will to listen in.

"Okay," Felix is saying. "The goal is to get Wolfgang fucking trashed, and the best way to do that is to play Never Have I Ever because he's done a lot of fucked up things that the rest of us haven't done. Be _merciless_."

Wolfgang nods tiredly, unsurprised, and finds a large table near a window. He takes off his blazer and puts it on the back of his seat, then glances down at the pattern on his shirt and shakes his head. The rest of them join him after a moment and gather around the table -- Felix is smirking, and so is Will, Lito, and Mun. Capheus and Hernando both look mildly concerned.

Felix goes to the counter and comes back with a huge tray of beer and a sizeable bottle of vodka. Felix pulls out a set of shot glasses from the bag he brought with him and sets them up on the table. All of the glasses have an etching of a wolf on them. One of the glasses says "the wolf" and the other six say "the wolf pack."

Wolfgang picks up one of the glasses. "Really, Felix?"

"It's a bachelor party!" says Felix defensively. "I'll never get to buy useless crap like this again in my life." He grins. "Unless you fuck up really bad with Kala."

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow.

"I'm kidding, lighten up," says Felix, pouring a sloppy series of shots into the glasses.

Wolfgang cautiously takes a beer from the tray. Felix reaches into his bag again and takes out an inflatable gold crown, then puts it on Wolfgang's head and pats his cheek.

"King for a day," he says, adding with a frown, "in a less mobster-y way than we usually mean."

Wolfgang snorts and adjusts the crown to fit properly.

Felix rubs his hands together. "Okay, Wolfie. Bachelor party hazing part two...Never Have I Ever."

Wolfgang looks at him without reaction.

"I'll start," says Felix. "Let's see. Never have I ever had a threesome."

Wolfgang lifts a shot to his mouth, but before he drinks it, he says, "You know I'm going to black out, right?"

"That's kind of the point," says Felix.

Will leans forward. "Threesome like...within a Cluster?"

"No, in person," says Felix.

Wolfgang shrugs and takes the shot. Will shakes his head, laughing, and sets his own glass down.

Capheus squints. "How do you pay attention to so many people? It seems like a practical problem, if you ask me."

"The problem is getting two girls to leave your apartment instead of just one," says Wolfgang.

"Not classy," says Felix, nudging Hernando who's next to him. "Your turn."

Hernando toys with his glasses. "Never have I ever...flirted with someone who is married."

Wolfgang drains another shot.

Mun cautiously reaches for a shot. "Knowingly flirted? Because one time I flirted with one of my co-workers. I didn't realize she was married."

"It counts," says Felix.

Mun braces himself and takes the shot, then sighs. "Why did you pick vodka?"

"Vodka is delicious," says Felix. "Lito, your turn."

Lito chuckles richly and stretches in his seat. "Easy. Never have I ever had sex with a woman."

The table groans and everyone but Hernando and Lito takes a shot. Then Will grins, sipping his beer, and looks at Wolfgang.

"Never have I ever driven drunk," he says.

"Fuck," murmurs Wolfgang, reaching for the bottle to refill the shot glasses, then draining another one.

Felix takes a shot too and looks at the rest of the men in surprise. "Really? Just Wolfie and me?"

"Really," says Will. "How stupid do you have to be to drive drunk?"

Wolfgang shrugs. "He has a point." He blinks, the alcohol swirling uncomfortably in his stomach. He groans. "I hate you, Felix."

Felix grins and pats his shoulder.

Mun clears his throat. "Never have I ever had a one night stand."

Another resounding groan. Everyone but Capheus and Mun takes a shot. Capheus chuckles, sipping his beer, and holds his hands up.

"Okay. I have one that isn't so rude. Never have I ever read an entire book in a day."

Wolfgang and Hernando glance at each other in solidarity and reach for a shot. Then they look at Mun, who's just taken a shot. He shrugs.

"I like Stephen King," he explains, adding with a frown, "I read a passage to Sun the other day and she punched me."

Wolfgang laughs and takes his shot, then winces and exchanges the vodka for beer.

"Giving up already?" asks Felix.

"I've had six shots in about five minutes, Felix, fuck off," he says gruffly, adding, "My turn. Never have I ever climbed a water tower just because a girl told me she would kiss me if I did."

Felix shakes his head. "That's cold, Wolfie." He takes the shot. "Cold."

"Wait," says Will. "You climbed a water tower because a girl said she'd kiss you? What the fuck. Weren't you worried you'd fall and kill yourself?"

Felix shrugs, gesturing with his hands as if weighing two objects. "Dying...kissing a girl...seemed worth it when I was twelve." Then he looks at Wolfgang. "You'll regret what you just did. I can get specific too." He nudges a shot towards Wolfgang. "Never have I ever gotten my car keyed because my girlfriend came over while I was fucking her best friend."

Will whistles. Hernando's eyes widen. Lito drinks his beer and averts his gaze. Capheus shakes his head and Mun snorts. Wolfgang glares at Felix, who shrugs.

"She wasn't my girlfriend," says Wolfgang.

"She didn't know that!" says Felix and everyone laughs.

Will groans. "You cheated on your girlfriend?"

"She wasn't my girlfriend! Having sex a few times doesn't make someone your girlfriend."

Will starts to laugh. "Okay. Set the scene."

Wolfgang takes his shot. "I was eighteen, I slept with this girl Sabine a few times, but her friend..." He pauses, considering how to explain that his entire basis for sleeping with Sabine's friend was her physical appearance. "...was very attractive?"

"Why are you phrasing this as a question?" asks Lito, frowning.

"He slept with her because he thought she had _spectacular_ tits," explains Felix, nodding knowingly.

"I know I'm not a saint," preempts Wolfgang while Lito groans.

"Who does that?" demands Lito. "Who selects sexual partners based on a single body part?"

"Straight men, Lito," says Hernando in a tone of exasperation, as if explaining something simple to a small child.

Lito laughs loudly and nods. "It's true, it's true..."

Wolfgang chuckles in agreement, sipping his beer, but then he holds up a hand. "I know I slept around but I didn't hurt anyone, okay?" He pauses. "Not intentionally."

Lito rolls his eyes and squeezes Wolfgang's shoulder. "We know. We just enjoy shaming you."

Will grins and nods. "We do. So what happened?"

"I asked her to come over but I forgot I texted Sabine earlier and asked her to come over too..."

"See, she wouldn't have keyed his car," says Felix, "but you know what he did?"

Wolfgang grimaces and sips his beer.

"He asked her to join them," says Felix in astonishment. "Where the fuck does that kind of confidence come from? Can you fucking imagine? You come home and your boyfriend is fucking your best friend and he asks if you want to hop in?"

Will laughs more loudly, covering his face. "What the fuck, Wolfgang?"

Wolfgang starts to laugh, drinking his beer. "Look, I'm not proud of it."

Will slumps, still laughing, and the others join in. Felix grins, shaking his head smugly.

"How?" murmurs Hernando. "How are stories like this true?"

"I have more," says Felix seriously.

Will shakes his head and finishes his beer. "Does Kala...know all this?"

Wolfgang nods. "Not specifically but we're different together." He breathes out, lightheaded, mind buzzing pleasantly. "Don't understand why I went twenty-eight years without sleeping with someone I actually love, it's better."

Then he stops, realizing he's sharing too much. He hastily drinks some beer, disregarding the fact he's oversharing only because he's drunk and drinking more certainly won't improve that.

Will shrugs. "The connection too. Because you can feel how she feels."

Wolfgang nods in agreement, then grins stupidly. "I love her so much."

Lito nudges Hernando happily. "Look at this, he's drunk, maybe he'll tell us some secrets."

"I'm not drunk," says Wolfgang, adding immediately, "I'm drunk, but I'm not telling you anything."

Felix chuckles, tipsy. "Listen, I've known this dummkopf longer than any of you and I've never seen him act the way he does around Kala. It's fucking weird, okay? He came home from wherever the fuck you all were and suddenly had a girlfriend he wanted to wife up."

"She understands me," Wolfgang attempts to explain.

Felix gestures at him. "See!"

"She's the love of my life and fuck..." He trails off, grinning. "She has a great ass..."

"You are so drunk," says Will with a laugh.

Wolfgang shakes his head abruptly, reaching for his beer. "You can't let me talk about Kala when I'm this drunk..."

Lito grins. "Why not?"

"Are you concerned you'll reveal something?" wheedles Hernando.

Will drains his beer and gestures with the empty glass at his Cluster-mates. "We're all horny all the time, and frankly, it's your fault and we know it."

"It's not my fault," says Wolfgang indignantly, and then he laughs loudly, "it's Kala's."

Will snorts and shakes his head. "Poor Kala. See, most women look at a guy like you and say, nope, that's a ride I won't survive."

Wolfgang starts to laugh weakly. "What?"

Will shrugs and drinks. "I'm telling you."  
  
"Women are into that, though!" says Felix.

"Yes, what's the expression? We all want a man who will..." Lito trails off, then remembers and says cheerfully, "fuck our brains out."

Wolfgang covers his face and shakes his head.

"I'm sure you're very accomplished at that," says Will.

"Want to find out?" asks Wolfgang, still laughing, adding after he gulps his beer, "I have one. Never have I ever been arrested."

"Oh, fuck," mumbles Will, reaching for a shot. "How's that possible?"

"Because the cops didn't want to be kneecapped or worse by mobsters," says Felix brightly.

Capheus raises his eyebrows and nods. "Understandable."

Everyone laughs for a moment, and then Felix tops up every beer and distributes a round of shots.

"Never have I ever..." he mumbles. "Ooh. Gotten injured in the bedroom."

"Where is the creativity?" asks Hernando. "Do these questions all have to be sexual?"

"No, but it's more embarrassing this way," explains Felix, looking in anticipation at Wolfgang, frowning when he doesn't drink. "Really?"

"No, which is surprising considering--" he cuts himself off.

Felix grins -- a hungry, roguish grin. "Considering what?"

Wolfgang starts to laugh. "Considering Kala...has a reputation for that. On her honeymoon, she uh..."

Lito groans. "Oh no. This story."

"How do you know?" asks Wolfgang.

He gestures wildly. "She told me! She needed someone to complain to!" He clasps his hands and looks at everyone intently. "Kala was trying to be brave so she was, ah, initiating things with her husband." He pauses to point at Wolfgang. "You were getting all Christian Grey with some poor girl and making Kala watch, not helpful--"

"Wait, what?" asks Felix.

"All I did was spank her a few times--"

Felix shakes his head and drinks. "The fuck am I hearing?"

"Wait, who was spanking who?" asks Hernando in confusion.

Wolfgang groans and leans forward on the table, burying his face in his hands. "Why are you telling this story, Lito..."

"You deserve to suffer," says Lito earnestly, adding to Hernando, "see, Wolfgang was having sex with this girl, and well..." He motions in the air with his hand. "It was getting quite intense if you know what I mean--"

"It's not my fault that Kala showed up!"

"Yes it was, you were thinking about her!" argues Lito.

"She was thinking about me," says Wolfgang.

"However it happened, you distracted her while she was on top of her husband and she freaked out, got up, and he fell off the bed and..." He makes a crunching noise with his tongue. "Broken dick, just like that."

Felix stares. "What?"

"That's one way to get out of marital duties," says Lito, laughing drunkenly. "Simply break his dick!"

Felix holds his hands up. "That woman scares me enough, okay? Now this? Fuck, Wolfie..."

Mun drinks his beer in silent astonishment and Hernando mirrors him. Wolfgang shakes his head, blushing, and starts to laugh.

"Poor Kala," he murmurs, leaning back and laughing in earnest. "She handled it really well, actually, she kept teasing me and making fun of the girl..."

Felix takes a shot of vodka. "Okay, this game is officially over, I've heard too much and I'm fucking starving."

"Wait, wait," says Hernando. "I've been saving the best for last."

Everyone looks at him, and he smirks and slides a shot to Wolfgang.

"Never have I ever..." he whispers dramatically, "killed someone."

Wolfgang scoffs and takes the shot, then looks at the others. "Hey, Will, drink up, Felix, drink, Mun, Capheus, you too."

Hernando's eyes widen. "Oh my God. What? All of you have killed a person?"

"We didn't have a choice," says Capheus sincerely.

"Well..." murmurs Felix, raising his eyebrows, skeptical.

Hernando looks at them all in shock. "My God!"

The men Wolfgang mentioned all drink, and then Felix insists on lunch. Everyone nods in agreement and gets unsteadily to their feet. Wolfgang sways and grips Felix for support, almost knocking him down.

"Wolfie, c'mon!" he groans. "Find someone bigger to lean on!"

"Nope," says Wolfgang, slinging an arm around Felix's shoulders and kissing the side of his head.

Felix shakes his head as he takes out his wallet and leaves a large bill on the table. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You love me," says Wolfgang, adding, "wait, where are we going?"

"Food, we're getting food so you don't fall the fuck down," says Felix.

Wolfgang chuckles -- almost a giggle, but Felix is too drunk to make fun of him -- and then glances down at himself.

"Why...why are there elephants?" he mumbles. He takes his sunglasses off his head and examines them, then laughs. "Oh. I get it. It's a pun." He frowns. "What are these supposed to be shaped like?"

Felix takes the glasses from him and turns them the right way up before handing them back.

"Oh, beer bottles," says Wolfgang, nodding.

Felix snorts, patting his arm as they leave the brewhouse and step into the sunshine. They walk down the street towards the SUV. Wolfgang glances at his bright blue shoes and tilts his head in confusion, struggling to remember why he's dressed like this or where he got any of these clothes, and then he looks at Felix, wobbly.

"Felix," he mutters. "How much did I drink?"

"Uh, I stopped counting after you had ten," says Felix.

"Oh, fuck," says Wolfgang with feeling. "Felix, fuck, you let me have ten?"

Felix shrugs. They lean on each other for stability and keep walking, laughing occasionally at nothing, steadying themselves on parking meters. They pass a small bulldog and Felix laughs until he cries after Wolfgang suggests the dog looks like Vladimir Putin, and then they pass a woman carrying a baby, and Wolfgang whispers "a baby!" to Felix with such genuine excitement that Felix asks if he's on anything besides vodka.

They reach the car and Wolfgang sits heavily in the front seat next to Dani, rubbing his eyes and blinking in the glare from the sun.

"Your boyfriend," he says, slurring, "is trying to get me killed."

"Had a few too many?" she guesses, smirking.

"Fuck," he mumbles, shaking his head.

"Food, we need food," says Will from the back.

"Oh, so you're drunk too," says Dani.

"We're all fucking drunk," says Felix happily, adding, "babe, find us food. Wait, wait. I had a plan. What was my plan?"

Dani holds up a list that's on the dash. "I've got it. I know where to go next."

She pulls away from the curb. The men collectively groan at the movement, which isn't helping their stomachs. They endure the short drive quietly and she drops them off at a small rooftop cafe that serves bratwurst, potato salad, and pretzels.

The men all trudge up the stairs, find seats near the edge of the roof, and hastily order food. Wolfgang leans on Felix and stares out at the sunny skyline, frowning slightly.

"Why are we moving to Paris?" he mumbles. "You have to move with us..."

"Yeah, what the fuck?" says Felix fervently. "Why are you moving to Paris?"

"I'm going to miss you," says Wolfgang.

Felix huffs. "Yeah, I'm going to miss you too."

The food arrives after a few minutes and everyone groans in relief, plating up potatoes, sausages, and pickles and eating ravenously. None of them talk much while they eat, too focused on chasing away the sick feeling in their stomachs. After twenty minutes, Wolfgang leans back in his seat and exhales, then tips his head and stares at the sky.

"I was one drink away from passing out, thanks Felix," he says, significantly more sober, though still very drunk.

"See, one drink away!" says Felix proudly. "I knew exactly where the line was!"

Wolfgang snorts. "No, you didn't!"

"Okay, lucky guess," murmurs Felix.

Will groans across from them. "I'm going to regret everything tomorrow. Fuck man, how do you two drink like this?"

"He's Russian and I'm indestructible," says Felix with a shrug, popping a small potato into his mouth.

Wolfgang shakes his head. "He is, I've never seen anyone his size drink as much as he can."

"Dani," Felix says seriously. "Dani can outdrink me."

Wolfgang glances sideways at him. "Really?" Then he reaches for some seltzer and drinks it, adding, "How's that going?"

Lito and Hernando both look over, suddenly tense and defensive.

Felix grins softly. "Good, yeah, good. She's really fucking sweet. I picked her up from the airport yesterday and we went to the movies, and had dinner and talked until like three in the morning."

"Felix," calls Hernando pleasantly, "I want to share something with you. In ancient Rome, rulers favored an interesting method of torture and execution, where the victim would slowly roast inside a large metal bull, and according to legend, when the bones were removed from the inside, they would shine like jewels so they were crafted into ornate bracelets. If you hurt our Dani in any way, we will roast you, and proudly wear your bones around our wrists."

Felix stares at him. Lito smiles and nods.

"I think I just shit myself," says Felix in a hollow tone. He gulps. "Understood, Mr. Fuentes. I'm not going to hurt her." He holds his hands up. "Listen, we haven't even kissed, okay?"

Wolfgang glances at his brother in bewilderment. "What?"

He shakes his head. "We haven't! I'm going really slow because she told me what Joaquin did to her -- fucking bastard."

Hernando softens. "She told you? She must trust you. Perhaps my threat to roast you was premature."

Felix breathes out angrily. "What happened to him? Is he still around?"

Lito tilts his head, sipping some seltzer with a straw. "He's still alive, yes, but I doubt we'll ever see him again."

Felix squints in confusion. "Why's that? Sounds like a fucking stalker to me."

Hernando starts to smile. "Wolfgang presented a...compelling argument to him."

Wolfgang chuckles and rests his arm on the back of his chair. Felix looks at him, brow wrinkled.

"Wolfgang kicked his ass," explains Lito.

Felix's eyes widen. "Seriously, man?"

Wolfgang nods. Felix shakes his head and stabs at a potato with his fork.

"Motherfucker," he mumbles. "He deserves worse, you should have killed him."

Wolfgang nods in agreement. "But it was Lito fighting him, wouldn't have looked great on the tabloids."

Lito laughs richly. "No."

"We should start a defense squad," says Capheus. "Imagine, we travel around the world and avenge anyone who needs our help. Though you may want to invite Sun instead of me."

"You'll be the getaway driver," says Will with a laugh.

Capheus grins and nods. "Perfect."

"Seriously Wolfie," mutters Felix. "You'd be fucking great at that, you should be like a...hired gun, kill all the baddies for people who can't do it themselves."

"I don't think Kala wants me doing that," says Wolfgang.

"She doesn't have to know!" says Felix.

"Yeah, that seems like a good way to start a marriage," replies Wolfgang. "Felix, think for a minute, if we're in each other's heads how would I hide that from her?"

Felix sighs. "Fine, fine. Go be boring."

He chuckles and finishes up his plate, about to look at Felix and ask what the next stop is, but he sees Felix's eyes darken in mischief at the sight of a young woman with brunette hair walking up to the table.

Wolfgang eyes him, then looks at the woman, who shoulders her purse higher and glances behind her; a boy of about ten years of age trails after her, looking mildly confused. She passes the table, but stops, turns, and steps back. She looks at Wolfgang with a furrowed brow.

"Wolfgang? Is that really you?"

He stares at her for a moment, and then his eyes widen in realization. "Fuck. Sabine. What are you doing here?"

She shrugs. "Getting lunch. I haven't seen you in years." She clicks her tongue at her son so he stands closer to her. She ruffles his hair and drawls, "Hey, does he remind you of anyone?"

Wolfgang looks at the boy, then at Sabine. He's drunk enough that the idea that this boy is his son seems frighteningly plausible.

"I would have told you," says Sabine playfully. "But I thought I'd never see you again."

Wolfgang starts to shake his head, heart pounding. "Fuck, please tell me this is a joke."

She shrugs. "Well, you have to understand, you cheated on me and left without a goodbye, so you're not exactly fatherhood material."

Wolfgang looks at Felix, whose mouth is wide open. The rest of the table is similarly stunned.

"Are you kidding?" asks Wolfgang as he turns back to Sabine.

"Nope, he's yours."

"But you--"

She shrugs. "Birth control isn't perfect, you know."

He stares at her in horror. Then she meets Felix's eyes and Felix finally shrugs and bursts out laughing. Wolfgang looks at him in outrage and punches him hard in the arm.

"What the fuck, Felix?"

"Couldn't resist!" says Felix, snorting and rubbing his arm. "Classic fucking prank, Wolfie!"

Everyone else groans and begins to laugh.

Will shakes his head. "Oh, that's brutal."

"Brilliant!" shouts Lito, laughing into his hands.

Sabine and Felix high five, and then she points at Wolfgang.

"I still hate you, you're a terrible person, I hope you get a divorce and die alone."

Wolfgang nods. "Thanks."

She flips him off, then walks away, guiding her son with her.

He rubs his face and shakes his head weakly. "Fuck, Felix...I'm going to kill you."

Felix grins. "You deserve it. You broke that girl's heart. We planned this for weeks, I knew exactly which girl to pick to make it believable. That kid really looks like you, right?"

"Yeah, he does, are you sure he's...not mine?"

"Oh yeah, she's married now, she's got three kids, has her shit together despite what you did to her."

"We weren't dating!" says Wolfgang in annoyance.

Will rolls his eyes. "Is this the girl? The one who you cheated on with her friend?"

Wolfgang huffs. "Maybe."

Will points at Wolfgang with his fork. "He's right, you do deserve this." Then he shakes his head. "I knew you screwed up with women in the past but fuck, man."

"Shame on you," agrees Hernando, starting a chorus of hisses and boos.

Wolfgang snorts and holds his hands up. "Okay! I know! I fucked up when I was younger, I get it!" Then he grins. "It's not my fault how many girls wanted to hook up."

"Oh, bullshit!" shouts Felix. "You were always chasing girls, not the other way around."

"What can I say?" continues Wolfgang in the same, playful tone. "Apparently I really know how to treat a woman."

Felix groans and laughs. "Oh, fuck off!"

Wolfgang shrugs. "Not exactly stiff competition considering most guys won't even eat their girlfriends out."

Felix shakes his head listlessly. "Well, I didn't expect the conversation to go here, but...here we are." He gets up and grips Wolfgang's shoulder. "Let's go, things to do."

The others follow suit and Felix leaves a bill on the table, then catches up with everyone else, who are on their way down the stairs. Dani pulls up in front of the curb after a moment and they get in.

"Sobered up?" she asks kindly.

"Halfway," says Wolfgang.

She squeals in excitement. "Okay. Now you can get fucked up again."

Dani reaches into her purse to hand him a bottle of vodka with a scorpion in it. "There you go."

He narrows his eyes at her. "Why is there a scorpion in this?"

"For shits and giggles?" she suggests, adding, "it's edible and apparently delicious. And it gives the vodka a sweet, woody flavor." She sighs. "Listen it's disgusting but Felix dared me to buy it."

Wolfgang nods, then opens it and takes a sip.

Will sighs. "Open carry. Great."

Wolfgang glances over his shoulder at him. "You're in Berlin, not Chicago, relax."

Will shakes his head in exhaustion and Wolfgang takes another sip. He passes the bottle to Felix, then looks at Dani.

"It's not bad," he admits.

She grins. "You say that because you're already drunk. Okay, strap in! We've got a bit of a drive...what music do you guys want?" Then she sighs. "It doesn't matter, you're all sauced, we're listening to Whitney."

She plays _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_ and pulls out. The men all pass the vodka around, sharing stories about Wolfgang and laughing, but he doesn't hear them, distracted by a text from Kala.

Kala, 4:05 p.m. -- How is it going? Are you drunk? I miss you.

Wolfgang, 4:06 p.m. -- So drunk, I miss you, love you.

Wolfgang, 4:06 p.m. -- Felix got one of my exes to come and convince me her son was mine.

Kala, 4:06 p.m. -- Omg! Did you fall for it? And I love you too, softie <3

Wolfgang grins at this.

Wolfgang, 4:07 p.m. -- I did fell for it.

Wolfgang, 4:07 p.m. -- Fall for it?

Wolfgang, 4:07 p.m. -- Fall for it. Might have deserved it. What are you doing?

Kala, 4:08 p.m -- Making chicken and talking to my mother...ugh. And my goodness...you ARE drunk.

He laughs.

Wolfgang, 4:08 p.m. -- Tell your mom hello.

Kala, 4:09 p.m. -- Okay :)

Kala, 4:09 p.m -- She says hello. Come home soon?

Wolfgang, 4:10 p.m. -- Doubtful, don't stay up for me.

Kala, 4:10 p.m -- You know I can't sleep without you ;)

Kala, 4:10 p.m -- I love you, be safe.

Wolfgang, 4:11 p.m. -- Dani's driving, what could go wrong?

He feels Kala laugh through their connection, then pockets his phone. He glances out the window at the blur of trees along an old train track.

Will passes him the bottle of vodka, which is nearly empty; he looks at the scorpion for a moment, frowning, dizzy from the alcohol. He holds the bottle closer to scrutinize the scorpion's expression. Then he blinks, shrugs, and takes a gulp. He looks outside again and sees they're now passing a large park.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" he asks.

"Finding an isolated location to murder you," says Felix, reaching to pat his arm and take the vodka back.

Dani pulls into a parking lot and Wolfgang squints at a large paintball arena. Then he grins and chuckles.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he says.

Felix grins too. "Thought you'd like it."

They all get out of the car. Capheus stretches his arms towards the sky and yawns hugely. Hernando and Lito lean on each other, hiccupping drunkenly, and Will and Mun look at each other in solidarity, slightly more sober and excited at the prospect of obliterating the others at paintball. Felix shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

"I think my aim's going to be a bit off, Wolfie," he says.

Wolfgang laughs. "Mine too."

Dani gets out of the car to stretch before she waits out their paintball game, and Felix glances at her, eyes widening slightly with affection. Wolfgang nudges him and he sighs.

"Fuck," breathes Felix.

Wolfgang smiles slightly and shakes his shoulder. "Never felt like this?"

Felix groans. "No."

Dani catches him watching and she grins gently, walking up to them. Felix stiffens and tries to form a presentable expression.

She rolls her eyes fondly and tugs on his arm. "Think you can win against two trained police officers?"

"Fuck yeah," he says. "I have before."

She rolls her eyes again, but she says, "I bet you have."

She pats his arm and steps back. Felix squeezes her wrists briefly and smiles at her before continuing toward the paintball arena.

Wolfgang hangs back for a moment and meets Dani's eyes.

"I've never seen him like this, I think he loves you."

Dani breathes in, surprised. "Oh."

Wolfgang pauses for a moment, doubting his decision to say this. "I'm sorry, I'm drunk--"

"N-no," she says, voice breathy and high. "No, I trust you, you're his brother."

He nods.

"I like him a lot," she says, almost scared.

Wolfgang nods again, saying quietly, "We were talking about Joaquin earlier and believe me, he'll never hurt you. He wants to kill him, I think he would if he had the chance." He shrugs. "He grew up with me, he knows what it's like when..." He pauses. "If he understood me, he'll understand you."

Dani nods tentatively, then she grins, squeezes Wolfgang's arm, and runs to catch up with Felix. She puts an arm around his waist and gently kisses the side of his mouth, then turns and comes back to the car, blushing. Felix turns around and looks at Wolfgang with wide eyes, and Wolfgang grins, hurrying to catch up with him.

"What was that?" asks Felix excitedly.

Wolfgang shrugs. "She likes you."

"What did you say to her?" he asks.

Wolfgang shrugs again. "Just enough."

Felix rolls his eyes hugely. "Great, Wolfie, really helpful..."

They enter the arena with the other men, and after purchasing tickets, all gather in a staging area to put on their gear, which includes headlamps and Bluetooth earpieces so the teams can communicate.

"Fancy shit," observes Felix.

Wolfgang grins as he examines the gun, studying the trigger and the barrel.

"Looks just like an FN15," he mutters. "Cool."

Will is similarly fascinated with the gun, and Lito and Hernando chuckle together.

"Just like little kids," says Lito.

Wolfgang looks at him indignantly and directs the gun towards him. Lito puts his hands up.

"Don't shoot! I don't have my gear on!"

Everyone continues to put on vests and pads. Wolfgang holds up a shin guard and squints at Felix.

"It's not Fußball," he says.

Felix laughs. Wolfgang rolls his eyes and tosses the shin guard away.

"Vest, that's all you'll talk me into," he says as he fastens the clasps on the front of it.

Will finishes tying a blue headband around his head and holds up another one, alongside a red one. "Who's on what team?"

Wolfgang glances at Felix, then grins affectionately at him. "Me and Felix against the rest of you."

Felix grins back at him and nods. "Fuck yes."

Will laughs and hands them two red headbands, which they tie on.

"This is like...an advanced version of cops and robbers," jokes Will, and Mun chuckles appreciatively.

Lito sighs and raises his gun playfully at Wolfgang and Felix. "Prepare to get your lily-white asses kicked."

"Five against two...are you sure?" says Hernando, toying with the trigger on his gun and jumping when he fires a paintball into the floor.

Wolfgang snorts. "Yeah, we'll take our chances."

"I have never shot a gun before!" says Hernando defensively. "Unlike you heathens."

"Okay, ground rules," says Will. "No head-shots--"

"Oh, bullshit, we die like men!" says Felix.

Will groans. "Fine. No eye shots, okay? No one is losing an eye on my watch."

Everyone nods, except for Wolfgang who smirks. Will watches him, then goes up to the gear counter again and asks for goggles.

"You can't be trusted," he informs Wolfgang, distributing the goggles.

They all put them on, then go through the door to the arena, where they are faced with several other doors.

"It's like a maze," explains Felix. "We're supposed to get through the maze, to the center of it. Whoever makes it there first, your team wins. And don't fucking cheat, if you get shot in a fatal location, sit the fuck down. If you get shot more than three times, sit down."

Everyone nods and distributes in front of the doors so they're starting from separate locations, except Wolfgang and Felix, who decide to start together considering they're the only ones on their team.

They look at each other and both grin lightly.

"What is best in life?" asks Wolfgang.

"To crush your enemies," says Felix.

"To see them driven before you," says Wolfgang.

"And to hear the lamentations of their women," finish Felix and they both laugh.

Then they burst through the door they're standing in front of and enter a narrow, black hall covered in colorful, glow-in-the-dark graffiti.

"Oh, I'm too drunk for this," says Felix, shaking his head. "Fuck, man. Look at this place!"

They walk cautiously down the hall, guns raised, and come to an intersection. They shrug at each other and turn left, then pause at a noise behind a large, paint-splattered barrel. Felix steps closer, but Wolfgang get's a tiny glimpse of movement. He shoves Felix roughly out of the way and then a blue paintball explodes on his chest.

"Fuck, man, you saved me," mumbles Felix.

"What's new?" mumbles Wolfgang, pulling him behind the barrel and glancing around it, his finger on the trigger. He takes a breath, then rushes around the side of the barrel and shoots the man on the other side -- Mun. The paintball explodes on his shoulder and he groans.

"Damn it!" mumbles Mun, wiping the paint splatter off his face.

Wolfgang keeps his gun trained on him, grinning. "Walk away."

Mun shakes his head bitterly and walks away, disappearing down another hall.

"You let him go?" asks Felix incredulously.

Wolfgang shrugs. "I'm more forgiving when I'm drunk."

Felix snorts and then they both throw themselves behind a wall at the sight of Will, who creeps forward, gun extended. Wolfgang and Felix meet eyes, and then Wolfgang grunts in pain and glances down, seeing a spot of paint bloom on his leg. His eyes widen and he directs his gun in the other direction.

"Ha!" booms Lito. "I got you!"

Wolfgang aims at him and shoots him in the neck. He groans, sits down, and dramatically calls, "Hernando! Goodbye, my love!"

Wolfgang hums in thought. "Maybe I'm not that forgiving."

Felix laughs, and then they run down the hall together, past Lito, and turn left towards what they hope is the center of the maze. They pass glowing green and yellow walls, avoiding colorful hedges and ornate plastic trees.

"I feel like I'm Harry fucking Potter," pants Felix. "Feels like we'll get to the center and some noseless freak will be there to get us, this place is creepy as fuck, Woflie."

"Calm down, Felix..."

Then Felix yelps and disappears from view -- he's stepped into a booby trap and fallen into a pit of balls.

Wolfgang stares for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

"This place is fucking booby-trapped!" shouts Felix. "Are you kidding me?"

Wolfgang shakes his head, still laughing. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay, I'm stuck!"

Wolfgang looks down into the hole. "Damn it, Felix, why is it always you?" He kneels and reaches his hands down to pull Felix up, groaning faintly at the effort this takes.

"You're lucky I'm skinny," says Felix, dusting himself off and huffing.

Then a paintball explodes on his backside and he shouts in anger.

Wolfgang takes aim at Hernando, who has appeared at the end of the hall, giggling.

"Is ass considered fatal?" he shouts.

Wolfgang snorts. "No!" Then he lifts his gun and shoots Hernando in the arm, then hisses. "Fuck, I'm drunk. I was aiming at his head."

He aims again, but Hernando runs out of sight. He and Felix chase after him, but lose the way, and turn right, passing paintings of neon animals, more graffiti, and step carefully around another ball pit trap. They've just glimpsed the center of the maze when Wolfgang hears a noise to their left.

A paintball hits Felix in the leg.

Will emerges from the shadows, whooping, and shoots Wolfgang in the arm before he can hide.

Wolfgang groans. "Fuck you!"

Will grins. "Looks like you two are going to bleed out pretty soon!"

Mun and Capheus join Will. Felix and Wolfgang take off down a new hall and find a large lean-to to hide behind, listening to footsteps around them. Felix wipes some paint off his leg, panting.

"This is it for us, brother," says Felix.

Wolfgang laughs and then he looks at him, softening slightly. Felix glances at him and frowns.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Wolfie?"

"I'm going to talk to Kala about Paris--"

"No, you're not," says Felix.

"No, I'm going to miss you too much--"

"Uh-uh," says Felix, shaking his head. "That girl's the love of your life and you're going to go to Paris with her and make a bunch of babies."

Wolfgang laughs.

"You are," says Felix, adding warmly, "I'm happy for you, you fucker."

Wolfgang smiles and puts an arm around him. "Yeah. Thanks." Then he nudges him and adds, "And maybe you won't be that lonely."

Felix squints. "Why not?"

"Dani," says Wolfgang simply.

Felix grumbles. "Don't get my hopes up..."

"She's really into you," says Wolfgang sincerely.

"No--"

"Felix, she watches a movie with you every week. Do you know what it's like to watch a movie with you? Can't get past the opening scene without you saying some unnecessary bullshit, you never shut up."

Felix considers this, then starts to laugh. "Yeah. Okay."

Wolfgang laughs, then he steps away from the lean-to, lifts his gun, and looks at Felix. "Let's go."

"They're all waiting out there for us," says Felix.

Wolfgang nods. "Let's go die together like we were always supposed to."

Felix grins and nods, and then they burst around the side of the lean-to, guns extended, and turn towards the center of the maze. Will, Mun, Capheus, and Hernando greet them, all firing indiscriminately; they push through the flurry of paintballs, getting stung by them in the face and neck, and reach the center of the maze.

"Fuck yeah! We made it!" shouts Felix.

"You're dead three times over!" shouts Mun.

Felix and Wolfgang look at each other and laugh in concession. Then they grip hands, hold them high in the air, and shake them as if celebrating a win. Wolfgang laughs and so do the others, and then everyone sets their guns aside and lifts their goggles up on their heads.

After a breather, Felix convinces the others to play several more rounds, and they stumble out of the paintball arena hours later, exhausted, no longer artificially energized by vodka. Dani picks them up in the SUV just as the sun slips over the horizon.

She looks at Felix in concern, pointing out a large smear of paint on his cheek.

He shrugs. "I like it. Battle scar."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Okay, weirdo." Then she looks at the others. "Sober yet?"

They nod tiredly and she grins, suddenly excited.

"As you've figured out by now," she says, "my job is to make sure you're never sober."

She passes Wolfgang a baggy of marijuana edibles.

His eyes widen, he hastily closes his hand around the bag to hide it, and he glances around for observers.

"You were driving around with this in the car?" he whispers.

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, but I have a foolproof defense that cops always go for."

"Which is?" questions Wolfgang.

She points at her breasts.

Wolfgang nods for a long time, then says "Okay then."

"Oh, don't be a prude," she says, laughing as she starts the car, calling to the others, "anyone want to get high?"

"You and Felix are soulmates," mutters Wolfgang, shaking his head. "Neither of you have a single brain cell that tells you not to shout about criminal activity in public."

Wolfgang tosses the baggy to Felix in the back and he shakes one into his hand, then passes it to Will ("I'm literally a police officer, man"), Mun ("Same issue"), Capheus ("Public image"), then Hernando, who takes one; Lito does as well.

Felix looks at Wolfgang, disgruntled. "What gives?"

Wolfgang frowns at him. "I work with children."

Felix rolls his eyes. "Well, I don't see any now!"

Wolfgang shakes his head. "Drug tests."

"You're boring," says Dani.

She drives them back into the city while they recount the paintball matches and argue about the outcomes. She parks in front of a popular EDM club and Wolfgang looks cautiously at Felix.

"I can't go to clubs without Kala," he says.

"You can't go to clubs with her, either, without both of you disappearing into the bathroom for what I'm sure are totally innocent reasons," snips Dani, smirking.

Wolfgang glares at her.

"You know she's right," says Felix, adding, "And we're not clubbing, okay? I figured out something fucking cool, had to bribe some questionable club owners but it was worth it. C'mon, I'll show you."

Wolfgang glances at him, sure that something fishy awaits. He follows Felix along with the others into the club, where a bouncer looks at them in dislike but doesn't say anything. They follow the bouncer through a private door and up some stairs, above the club floor.

Wolfgang looks at Felix. "You said no strippers--"

"This doesn't involve strippers!" says Felix in annoyance as they follow the bouncer through another door, into a large room with glass walls that overlooks the club below on one side and the city on the other. There's a massive television, couches, and tables set up with samosas and several bottles of strong desi daru.

Wolfgang frowns slightly, looking at Felix. Felix grins, unfazed, and turns the television on. A karaoke menu lights up on the screen and Wolfgang starts to laugh.

"Told you," says Felix. "Perfect, right? Private karaoke! And we got your favorite Indian food and some sketchy Indian liquor."

Wolfgang frowns again. "Sketchy?"

Felix raises his eyebrows. "Taste it, you'll see."

Wolfgang shakes his head and takes a samosa off the table. He looks at Felix in surprise after he tastes a bite.

"These taste exactly like Kala's..."

Felix laughs. "Yeah, that's because they are, I know you like them so I asked her to make a bunch."

"Aw," says Capheus, grinning. "You recognize her cooking, that's so sweet."

Wolfgang smiles and nods, then reaches for the bottle of desi daru and scrutinizes it.

"I don't need anything else to drink today..." he mumbles as he unscrews the cap.

He takes a swig and then he grimaces and sets the bottle aside. "You could strip paint off a car with that."

Felix grins. "Yeah, but it's kind of tasty, right? It's like sweet and orange-y. Kala told me you had to try it, it's traditional in her family."

Wolfgang shakes his head and takes another swig, swearing quietly as he pulls the bottle away from his mouth. The others gather around, pouring themselves servings of desi daru in some glasses on the table, and plate up samosas. Then they gather around the television.

"Drink up," Felix says to Wolfgang. "I want you to sing some Celine Dion for us."

Wolfgang laughs and gestures with his glass. "There's no amount of this shit that would make me do that."

An hour later, he leans uninhibitedly against Felix and Capheus, swaying, vision out of focus, belting out _My Heart Will Go On._

The others whoop and tease them, all too drunk to stand without stumbling. Wolfgang decides "drunk" isn't the correct word; it's far too mild to describe how he feels. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a teenager when Felix stole a case of Stolichnaya -- he hopes this night doesn't end like that one, face down in an alley.

The song reaches an instrumental break and he, Felix, and Capheus all pause, out of breath, laughing uproariously.

"I can't, I can't," wheezes Felix.

Capheus wipes the tears out of his eyes and attempts the next line. " _Love can touch us one time--_ " but he can't stop laughing.

Felix nudges Wolfgang.

"C'mon Wolfie, c'mon, find that romantic side of you that you buried under a million frosty layers."

" _Near! Far! Wherever you are!_ " Wolfgang sing-yells and Felix joins him.

"This is the worst thing I've ever heard!" shouts Lito.

"Don't heckle!" yells Felix.

"I'll never be able to watch the movie the same way!" complains Lito.

" _Once! More! You open the door!_ " Wolfgang goes on, and then he doubles over, laughing again. "Why didn't she just fucking share the door with him?"

"He was too heavy, Wolfie, we've been over this!" hollers Felix.

"SING THE SONG!" shouts Will.

They hang on each other, hysterical, and get through the rest of the song, breaking up to laugh occasionally.

Mun slow claps. "Best version ever."

Wolfgang takes a dramatic bow and Felix holds his hands above his head and claps.

"Encore!" jokes Hernando.

The men stumble off the stage and sit on the couches, and then Lito and Hernando get up, also unsteady, and scroll through to find an appropriate song. Felix snuggles against Wolfgang and continues to drink desi daru.

"Wolfie," he says seriously. "It's kicking in."

Wolfgang looks at him in concern. "What is?"

"The pot!"

Wolfgang starts to laugh and takes a drink. "Oh, you're fucked..."

"Oof," Felix says. He stretches his hands out in front of himself and looks at them. "If you had to lose one finger, which one would you choose?"

"Nope," says Wolfgang. "We're not playing your fucked-up hypotheticals game."

"Which one, Wolfie? I think pinkie..." Then he giggles. "Fingers are like little sausages."

"You've got to stop doing drugs," says Wolfgang, snorting, continuing to drink.

The music plays and he grins, shaking his head. Lito and Hernando link arms and beam at each other.

" _Hi, we're your weather girls_ ," says Hernando with a wink.

"They're doing the intro," says Wolfgang, laughing harder. "That's commitment."

" _And have we got news for you,_ " says Lito.

Mun squints. "What song is this?"

" _It's Raining Men_ ," says Wolfgang.

"Wonder if they knew this would turn into a pride anthem," adds Will with a drunken laugh.

"They did," snorts Wolfgang, "there's a rainbow umbrella on the album cover."

Felix squints. "Why do you know that?"

Wolfgang looks at him with wide eyes and gestures at the television, which is displaying the album cover under the lyrics.

"Oh," says Felix. He blinks. "The colors are starting to look the same."

" _It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! It's Raining Men! Amen! I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get absolutely soaking wet!_ "

"This song is, like, not the cleanest if you assume everything's a...euph...Euclid?" Will trails off.

"That's a triangle, how drunk are you?" asks Wolfgang.

"Euphemism?" suggests Mun.

"That's it!" says Will brightly. "Yeah."

"And Euclid was the father of geometry, not a type of triangle," Mun goes on.

Wolfgang looks at him in annoyance, then presses a bottle of desi daru into his hands.

"Drink that, you sound like Kala," he says.

Mun laughs appreciatively and drinks some, wincing at the strength.

" _God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too!_ " Lito and Hernando sing in unison, exuberant and unembarrassed. " _She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do! She taught every angel, she rearranged the sky_ _so that each and every woman--"_

"Or man!" interjects Hernando.

" _\--could find her perfect guy!_ "

Will grins hugely, smacks the couch, and gets up to join them. They holler in excitement and wave him up, hugging him from the side when he arrives. They continue boisterously through the chorus, shouting hallelujahs. Will grabs the mic stand and dances with it.

" _It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! It's Raining Men! Amen!_ " choruses Lito and Hernando.

" _Tall, blonde, dark and lean!_ " adds Will, and then he grins at Wolfgang and meets his eyes for the next lyrics, " _Rough and tough and strong and mean!_ "

Wolfgang buries his face in his hands and laughs. When he looks up, Will winks at him.

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows, and shouts, "Want to get out of here later?"

Will laughs hard and struggles to finish the song. Felix shakes his head, snickering, and then the song fades and _Stayin' Alive_ comes on.

Will beckons Mun to come up while Lito and Hernando sit down, panting and exhilarated. They each drink some more desi daru, laughing, while Mun and Will belt out _Stayin Alive_ , laughter overpowering them each time they sing "ah ah ah" in a squeaky tone.

They step clumsily off the stage as the song fades, and Will pulls Wolfgang to his feet by grabbing his shirt. He punches him lightly in the chest.

"Your turn, beat that," he says with a smirk.

Felix stands up, puts a hand on one of Will's shoulders, and points at Wolfgang. "Can I enjoy one fucking night where someone isn't trying to hit that?"

Wolfgang grins, tugging on his jacket and flipping his head back like a model. "Can you blame him?"

Felix throws his hands up, groaning, and then he shakes Wolfgang's shoulders. "You don't even have enough hair to do that!" He shakes his head and drags him towards the stage.

Wolfgang sips his desi daru while Felix scrolls through the songs, settling on _Let It Go_ , laughing.

Wolfgang groans.

"It's perfect for you, you're an ice queen," says Felix.

Wolfgang nods. "Yeah, speaking of that, it's hot as fuck in here." He takes his blazer off and tosses it aside, and then he grins, undoes the top few buttons of his shirt, and pops the collar.

Lito and Hernando hoot in amusement. Felix rolls his eyes.

"You don't have to look good!" he groans. "It's not Eurovision!"

Wolfgang glares and points at him with the mic. "Don't talk to me about Eurovision."

"Oh, boo hoo, our country lost," says Felix.

He narrowly avoids a kick and starts the music. Wolfgang finishes the liquor in his glass and puts an arm around Felix.

" _The snow glows white on the--_ " He stops, unable to breathe due to laughter. "Fuck this song."

" _Not a footprint to be seen!"_ says Felix in a booming, bass tone.

Wolfgang grins and half-sings, half-shouts, " _A kingdom of isolation!_ "

Felix points dramatically at himself. " _And it looks like I'm the queen!_ "

"Is someone filming this?" asks Will.

Lito snorts and takes his phone out, filming as the two men unabashedly serenade them, tilting and floundering, unconcerned that their voices break every time they try to sing a high note.

Felix delivers a particularly bad version of " _heaven knows I tried_!" and Wolfgang laughs loudly, loses his balance, and tumbles off the stage.

Laughter explodes from the group as they all get up to help him, but they're laughing too hard to coherently ask if he's okay.

He sticks his hand in the air and shouts, "I'm okay!"

Then he jumps to his feet, nearly falling again, and collapses on the couch next to Will. Felix, barely containing himself, joins him.

"How is it," says Felix after a moment, hiccupping, "that we're almost fucking thirty and we know the lyrics to that song?"

Wolfgang shakes his head tiredly. "Everyone does." He starts to laugh. "Kala was singing it in the shower last week."

"How?" demands Felix. "It's not like we have four-year-old daughters."

"Well, you shook my confidence about that earlier," mumbles Wolfgang. "We probably do."

Felix snorts, shakes his head, and sips his drink. "Anna's the likable one, they should have made a movie about her. Elsa's a stuck-up little shit."

Wolfgang laughs freely. "Why do you have an opinion about this?"

Felix gestures indignantly with his glass. "I have an opinion on every movie!" Then he sighs. "God, everyone's going to fucking name their daughters Elsa."

Wolfgang shrugs. "It's a pretty name."

Felix rolls his eyes and pats his shoulder, continuing to drink.

Then Lito and Hernando get up, giggling due to their experiment with Dani's edibles, and take the stage once more. They sing an overly-emotional rendition of Lionel Richie's _Hello_ that leaves everyone groaning and laughing, and then Felix shoves Wolfgang and nudges a final drink into his hand.

"Sing something for Kala--"

"No," says Wolfgang, shaking his head.

The others start to goad him.

"Yeah, sing something for Kala!" says Will excitedly.

"You have to!" agrees Lito.

Felix grins. "Yeah, sing um... _Can't Help Falling In Love_ , you won't totally butcher that."

Wolfgang groans and throws back his drink, then gets to his feet and walks up to the stage, rocky on his feet. The room tilts and blurs in his vision and he laughs at himself, stretches, and steps up to the mic. Felix jumps up to select the song for him and he tilts his head back, half-laughing, half-groaning as the first few notes play.

He focuses -- as best he can despite the desi-daru-fueled buzz -- on the key so he doesn't sound wildly off pitch, slightly more serious because they asked him to sing for Kala.

" _Wise men say...only fools rush in_..."

The other men lean on each other and wheeze -- not because he sounds particularly bad, but because he's trying to be genuine. This combined with his state of complete drunkenness and his bright pink attire produces a comical effect.

" _But I can't help...falling in love...with you..._ "

He pauses to grin and laugh at himself, flushed, and he sings the rest of the song flustered by the fact that the schmaltzy lyrics are hitting their mark. He blames this on the desi daru, but he knows this explanation is incomplete on its own.

He finishes the song to uproarious applause and laughs loudly, then bows. Then he looks up at a soft cheer from the back of the room and sees Kala. He stares. She grins at him and slowly crosses the room.

"What...how...why are you here?" he asks, stepping off the stage.

"It was Felix's idea to make you sing something for me while I hid outside," she explains, reaching him and putting her arms around his neck. She beams. "Hi."

"Hi," he mumbles, smiling.

"That was very sweet," she says softly. "And surprisingly well-executed considering you are clearly drunker than I've ever seen you."

He tips his head down and laughs. "Yeah."

She kisses him quickly and stays close, nose lingering against his. "You taste like desi daru."

He nods. She laughs and kisses him again, then slides her hand down his arm and tangles their fingers together.

She looks at the other men, then at Dani waiting by the door with the keys. Everyone groans as they get up, searching around for their belongings and nearly toppling every time they reach to pick something off the floor. Then they all follow Kala and Dani to the car below.

Wolfgang falls promptly asleep next to Kala while she combs through his hair with gentle fingers. She exchanges a warm glance with Felix, and then she nuzzles against Wolfgang, beaming, secretly stunned by the sincerity of the song he sang for her.


	37. May 27, 10:54 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani plans a bachelorette party with help from the Cluster. Everyone overshares, plays in the pool, and Kala makes a bad decision.

Kala startles awake at the sound of Wolfgang's voice, turning over under the sheets and blinking in the sudden sunlight. She wrinkles her nose and looks around, finding Wolfgang fully dressed at the side of the bed, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.  
  
"Morning, babe," he says, smiling at her.   
  
She grins and reaches her hands out to take the coffee. "Ooh, thank you, good morning..." She sits up in bed, takes a sip of coffee, and then stretches to kiss him. "What time is it?"   
  
He sits on the bed next to her. "Almost eleven."  
  
"Oh my God," she murmurs, laughing at herself. She nuzzles her nose against his and tugs playfully on his shirt. "Thank you for letting me sleep. I'm sure I'll need the extra rest. Dani is going to keep me up all night."  
  
Wolfgang smiles and nods.  
  
"I don't particularly want a bachelorette party..." she says softly. "I have a bad feeling..."  
  
They hear a knock at the door and meet eyes.  
  
Kala sighs. "It begins."  
  
She slides her legs off the bed and ties a silk robe around herself. She and Wolfgang walk through their living room to the door and open it.  
  
Dani and Felix smile at them, holding hands.   
  
Dani is wearing a shirt with a sketch of an old film reel on it -- something Wolfgang recognizes from Felix's teenage years. She's tied the bottom of the shirt to make it a crop-top, but it's still noticeably large on her. Wolfgang raises his brows gently at Felix, who communicates with a flash of his gray eyes that nothing is to be said about the shirt.  
  
"Hi!" says Dani brightly as she walks inside. "Happy Bachelorette Party Day!" She yawns hugely. "Do you have coffee? I need coffee..."  
  
Felix groans. "Me too."  
  
Kala looks at Wolfgang, who is watching Felix closely, taking in his scruff, tired eyes, and mussed hair. His lips slowly form a smirk and Kala glances at him darkly, warning him not to tease his brother for a late night with his new girlfriend.  
  
Wolfgang ignores this and murmurs to Felix, "What happened to taking it slow?"  
  
"Shove it up your ass, Wolfie, I need coffee right now or I'll lose my fucking mind," replies Felix.   
  
"Ditto," groans Dani. "Coffee, now, or I'm never making it through this day."  
  
"Where are the others?" asks Kala.  
  
"They'll meet us in a few," says Dani, wandering into the kitchen with Felix.   
  
Wolfgang and Kala follow them and Kala pours them both large mugs of coffee, adding cream and sugar. Dani squeals softly in thanks and takes a huge gulp and Felix follows suit.  
  
"You could have bought coffee," says Wolfgang.  
  
"We were too tired to think of that," says Dani, setting her coffee aside and turning to Kala and tugging on her robe. "This is so pretty, I love it." Then she takes her face in her hands and kisses her forehead. "This party is going to be amazing, okay? I planned the perfect day."  
  
Kala laughs and squeezes her arms. "Okay."  
  
There's a new knock at the door, and after a moment, Sun, Nomi, Amanita, Zakia, and Riley all come into the kitchen, smiling hugely.   
  
"Hello, almost-Mrs.-Bogdanow," sing-songs Amanita.  
  
Kala laughs loudly. "Aw, hello."  
  
She looks around at everyone and realizes they're all wearing tee-shirts that say "So we're getting drunk" written in gold cursive. She squints.  
  
Amanita laughs and holds up a similar tee -- this one says "I'm getting married" on the front.  
  
"Get it?" says Dani. "That one's yours, Kala."  
  
"Oh!" she sighs. "I understand. I'm getting married..."  
  
"So we're getting drunk," chirps Dani. "Yep."  
  
Wolfgang glances at Dani as he refills his coffee. "Where's _your_ shirt?"  
  
Dani blushes and doesn't explain that it's at Lito and Hernando's hotel room, considering she didn't spend the night there. Wolfgang smirks, drinking his coffee, and Kala rolls her eyes. She squeezes Dani's arm in apology, then takes the shirt from Amanita.   
  
"I'll get dressed, I'm sorry I slept in!" she calls over her shoulder as she hurries to the bedroom to change.   
  
She puts on some pink shorts with gold flowers to match the cursive on the tee-shirt, then puts that on, quickly applies her makeup, and puts her purse over her shoulder. She darts around the apartment looking for her sandals ("Under the coffee table, you slob," says Wolfgang.) She puts them on and stands in front of everyone in the kitchen, beaming.  
  
Then Hernando arrives, looking harried, holding Dani's shirt.   
  
He gives it to her with a gentle smirk and she laughs into her hands for a moment before thanking him. He leaves, eyeing Felix as he goes through the door, and Felix grimaces.  
  
Dani quickly changes her shirt and returns to the kitchen.  
  
Kala kisses Wolfgang goodbye for a long time, pulling away only when Sun barks at them to stop. She squeezes his hands and hurries after the other women and Felix, bursting onto the sun-drenched street where there is a stylish red convertible waiting. Her eyes widen and she quickly counts in her head - eight people, five seats.  
  
"Um--"   
  
Nomi cuts her off. "We can squeeze four in the back, then Neets can sit on me and you can sit on Riley."  
  
Kala raises her eyebrows and Riley waves flirtatiously at her.  
  
"I know you've always wanted to," says Riley.  
  
Kala laughs, then flushes and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Uh, okay," she murmurs, adding, "Felix, please drive safely, this isn't the proper way to ride in a car..."  
  
They get into the convertible -- Kala, Riley, and Felix in the front, and the others in the back. Dani hands out gold sunglasses with _K+W 2018_ written on the side and Kala puts a hand on her heart, suddenly heavy with affection.  
  
"Oh, Dani, this is sweet," she murmurs.  
  
"We love you two to death, I wanted something sweet instead of something sassy," explains Dani with a laugh. "I almost got ones that look like flamingos that say _let's flamingle,_ but..."  
  
Kala laughs loudly and shakes her head. Riley hugs her and sets her chin on her shoulder.   
  
"Should I try to put the seatbelt around both of us?" she asks.  
  
Kala nods. "You probably should."  
  
She does this, and then gives Felix the thumbs up. He bites his bottom lip, monkeying with the keys, and then punches the gas and speeds away from the apartment.  
  
Dani chatters at them about the plans for the day while they drive.   
  
"Spa first, I found the cutest spa with saltwater pools and, ugh, it's amazing, then a pool party at a private pool -- Felix bribed some old mob connection and there's a pool on the top of a roof and the view? Oh my God. And then we have presents and a fun truth or dare session, obviously."  
  
Kala tongues over her bottom lip, eyes flashing in concern at the prospect of truth or dare. She also frowns at the mention of a mob connection but doesn't say anything about it.   
  
Riley nudges her. "You're tense."  
  
"Yes, I'm slightly nervous, Dani is rather more adventurous than me," she murmurs.  
  
Zakia laughs sympathetically. "Just relax. It's sunny, it's beautiful."  
  
Kala nods, forcing herself to lean her head back on Riley's shoulder. She closes her eyes in the sun and smiles in the breeze after a moment, softening. Riley gives her a squeeze and she laughs.  
  
Then the car slows in front of a sleek spa with two fountains framing the entrance.   
  
"No, it's not a nude spa," Dani says reassuringly as she steps out of the car. "Even though that would be fitting given who you're marrying."  
  
"It's not as if he's truly a nudist," laughs Kala, and then she reflects on the fact that she came home last night to find him reading in bed, stark naked for no apparent reason, and murmurs, "okay, he may be one..."  
  
Dani sighs. "It would have been more fun to go to a nude spa." She walks around the side of the car to kiss Felix goodbye. "Nap while we're gone, babe."  
  
He nods and pulls away from the curb. Kala looks away to hide a grin, thrilled that things are working out between them.  
  
Dani smirks at Kala. "We can go to a nude spa if you'd like." She pauses, looking Kala up and down. "I wouldn't mind checking you out."  
  
Kala blushes hard. "Dani!"  
  
Dani shrugs, tugging her huge purse higher on her shoulder. "You're stunning, I'm not sorry."  
  
Kala starts to laugh. "God, maybe you should be the one marrying Wolfgang."  
  
"Oh no," Dani says seriously, laughing. "No, let me tell you what would happen. We would fight all the time because we don't balance each other out, we'd totally enable each other and get drunk constantly and party too much, and we would almost definitely cheat on each other when we got bored."  
  
Kala raises her eyebrows. "Have you thought a lot about this?"  
  
Dani opens the door to the spa and lets Kala go through. "No, just a passing thought when I first met you two. You can't blame me, he's drop-dead gorgeous."  
  
Kala laughs softly. "No, I can't."  
  
"Ugh, you two make my heart hurt, you're like a work of art together--"  
  
"I'm already suffering enough," interrupts Sun, pointing at her glittery shirt. "Please, for your own sake, stop."  
  
Dani glares playfully at her. "I'm allowed to compliment Kala as much as I want, it's her party."  
  
The women walk together through a stone hallway, illuminated by hundreds of candles in glass jars along the walls; there is a stream with koi fish on either side of the walkway, bordered by live jasmine trees.  
  
"Oh my God," murmurs Kala. "This looks...expensive."  
  
Dani smiles. "Don't worry about it."   
  
Nomi increases her pace to walk with them. "I may have hacked Dani's dad's offshore account."  
  
Dani grins. "She may have reported him to the IRS after stealing some money."  
  
Nomi beams. "He may have been arrested last week."  
  
"He may be going to jail for a long time," adds Dani.  
  
"Bye-bye, motherfucker," says Nomi, and she and Dani bump knuckles.  
  
Kala looks at them with wide eyes. Riley comes even with them and puts an arm around her waist.  
  
"Did they do something illegal?" she asks cheerfully.  
  
"What do you think?" sighs Kala.   
  
Riley elbows her. "You should do something naughty too before you marry Wolfgang. You've never broken a law just for the hell of it. You should experience that at least once."  
  
"No thank you," says Kala firmly.  
  
They continue through a stucco archway into the spa lobby, where they're greeted by two attendants who hand them robes, towels, and glasses of champagne.   
  
Kala grins at the glamor of this and takes a sip of champagne. Then Dani beams over her shoulder at them all, leading the way down a dimly-lit hall. They go into a stylish locker room with black marble floors and Dani sets her bag on a bench shaped out of driftwood.  
  
She takes out several bikinis, one of which has the word "I Do" written on the butt, while the others have "I Do Crew." Sun closes her eyes and breathes out slowly.   
  
"Kill me now," she mumbles to Nomi.  
  
"I think they're cute," says Zakia, picking up one of the bikinis.   
  
The women stay in the open area to change into the bikinis, except for Kala, who goes into a dressing room. When she comes back, she frowns at Dani and gestures at herself.  
  
"Is this okay? It's quite tiny..."  
  
"I could just squeeze you," Dani enthuses while she ties her hair into a messy bun.  
  
"Hey, she's mine," says Riley to Dani.   
  
Kala covers her face. "Stop, stop."  
  
"We have to tease you," says Dani as she picks up her towel. "It's part of the experience. You wouldn't believe what they did to poor Wolfgang. We're going easy on you compared to that."  
  
Sun squints. "What did they do?"  
  
"They played Never Have I Ever," says Dani, grinning. "And apparently they absolutely roasted him."  
  
Kala groans in sympathy. "I imagine Felix has quite a variety of embarrassing incidents to share. Thank God my sister couldn't be here or all of you would be treated to some true horror stories..."  
  
Everyone chuckles, and then they follow Dani out of the locker room to a huge, private saltwater spa; it's shaped like a diamond and features two waterfalls. Vanilla candles are lit all the way around the edge, and there is a floating tray of strawberry margaritas.   
  
Kala squeals, impressed. "This is beautiful!"  
  
She sticks her toe experimentally into the water, then sighs and sinks into it, sitting on the underwater shelf. She moans and leans her head back, smiling.  
  
"This is lovely," she murmurs. "Wolfgang and I should come here alone sometime..."  
  
A chorus of oohs as the other women get into the spa. She blushes when they kick and nudge her.  
  
"We like being in the water together," she admits softly. "I think that our previous experiences with water intensify everything for us."  
  
"That's true for Will and me too," says Riley, passing her a strawberry margarita. "If we've experienced the same things, when we experience those things again, together, it's very exhilarating."  
  
Zakia smiles at Kala. "Are you looking forward to the honeymoon?"  
  
Kala sinks lower in the water to show she's shy and sips her margarita. "Of course I am...although lately we've been making love as if it's our honeymoon already."   
  
Sun rolls her eyes. "You don't have to brag."  
  
Kala winks playfully and finishes her margarita, then reaches for a second one. Dani grins approvingly.  
  
"Good girl, drink up," she teases.  
  
Kala laughs, then smirks wickedly at her. "So Dani...tell us about Felix..."  
  
"We..." Dani grins gently. "We hooked up last night, which you probably guessed."  
  
The other women exclaim and squeeze her.  
  
"How was it?" breathes Kala.  
  
"It's a long story, we've spent a lot of time together this week," says Dani, sighing quietly. "The morning after the bachelor party I went over to his place to drop off some bloody marys...hair of the dog, you know...and he invited me to stay so I did, and we talked while we split the drinks and...see, he was hungover, obviously, so he had a headache so I started to massage his head and play with his hair and he um..." She grins, flushing. "I'm sorry that I'm so shy about this, I don't know why." She shakes her head and breathes out to steady herself. "He kissed me, well, we kissed, I should say."  
  
The others grin and _aw_ softly. She laughs at herself and sinks slightly lower in the water.  
  
"It was nice," she says quietly. "So we kissed for a while, but we were both exhausted from being up all night so I asked if I could stay for a nap..."  
  
"Uh oh," says Amanita with an affectionate smirk.  
  
Dani grins. "I know. So, his couch is really small, so we moved to his room..."  
  
"Uh oh," echoes Zakia, laughing.  
  
Dani laughs. "I know, I know, and well, I was wearing jeans, not comfy, so I took those off, and my bra, and we napped together almost all day..."  
  
"That's so sweet," murmurs Kala. "I love napping with Wolfgang, it's very affirming..."  
  
Dani nods and sips her margarita. "When we woke up we were hungry so we ordered a pizza and had some beer and put on a movie, but..." She laughs and plays shyly with her hair. "Well, I wasn't wearing much, you know, and he was distracted and so was I. It had been a long time since I slept next to a guy, romantically you know, and that closeness was..." She groans happily. "Ugh, it was so nice and I was so turned on, so I suggested we could make out while we waited for the food so we did that and... I told him I'd been waiting for him to touch me since the Oscars and that got him hot so things, ah, intensified a bit?"  
  
Kala starts to laugh and _aw_ at the same time. "Oh, Dani, Felix thinks you're far too attractive for him, he probably thought he was dreaming..."  
  
Dani touches her heart. "Ay, I know! He kept saying _I can't believe this is fucking happening_..." She laughs. "He's adorable." Then she sighs gently. "But then I started to panic because I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that the last man I actually liked was Joaquin and...it's one thing to hook up with someone you don't care about, but I love Felix and...it suddenly seemed like a huge decision to actually sleep with him so I stopped kissing him and..." She sniffles and shrugs, bringing the warm water up to her face to wash the tears away. "Ugh, ladies, it had been a long couple of days and I didn't mean to start crying but I couldn't help it and that freaked him out so I needed to explain myself."  
  
"Oh, sweetheart," sighs Riley. "I know how that feels."  
  
Kala nods. "So do I. Sometimes things remind us of the past at the worst moments." She smiles distantly and shakes her head. "I can't tell you how many times Wolfgang and I have been..." She blushes. "Well, in the middle of things, and I start to cry because I remember I nearly lost him."  
  
Dani nods, wiping her eyes. "It's always difficult to tell people, not exactly because of what happened, but because...you never know what the reaction will be. He knew that Joaquin would hit me because we've talked about Wolfgang so much and I could relate, but he didn't know that it was worse than that sometimes."  
  
Amanita shakes her head gently. "God, fuck men."  
  
"I know," says Dani. "But Felix was so sweet, I told him and he just held me and said it was okay. And I don't want anyone else now." She shuts her eyes and smiles. "Not ever." She pauses again to laugh at herself, then sniffles hard, collecting herself. "So we watched a movie and snuggled, and he told me he would..." She pauses to form air quotes. "...snap Joaquin's fucking neck for me if I asked him to."  
  
Kala sighs. "Oh dear. Wolfgang would help."  
  
Dani grins. "Yes, and then we could carpool to the prison on visiting days."  
  
Kala laughs loudly, then sighs and sips her drink. "Don't say that, that is a frighteningly plausible scenario..."  
  
"So then," says Dani, flushing dark pink and reaching for her drink. "I slept over at his place, and we spent the next day walking around the city, and we had this gorgeous romantic dinner by the river and...God, he's such a dork, I have no idea why I like him...we were by the river, surrounded by other people, and he asked me to dance...and he can't dance, at all, but he tried and then..." She grins and shrugs playfully. "We went back to his place."  
  
Kala beams and puts her hands on her heart. "You know how much I love Felix, I can't tell you how happy this makes me..."  
  
Dani rolls her eyes at herself and touches her fingertips to her forehead. "He's a skinny guy, he doesn't look like he'd be good in the sack, but ay...we had sex all night and he..." She sighs. "Well, he told me he loved me this morning and I said the same, so."  
  
Kala's fingertips dig into Riley's arm. "Oh..."  
  
Dani blushes and she laughs gently into her hands, then sniffles and shakes her head, tears spilling. "I've never really felt like this."  
  
Kala smiles. "I'm sure he hasn't either. I have a good feeling about you two."  
  
"Me too," admits Dani. Then she fans herself. "Sorry, sorry, I'm ruining your party--"  
  
"No!" says Kala warmly. "No, I'm so happy, and Wolfgang is going to be..." She trails off, grinning. "Oh, he's going to be ecstatic."   
  
Dani chuckles. "What does that look like on Wolfgang?"  
  
"It's all in his eyes. His expression may not change but his eyes do." Her grin softens and she looks around at them all. "It's wonderful, we're all in such beautiful relationships."  
  
Sun rolls her eyes. "Softie."  
  
"We are!" says Kala passionately. "I know you love Kwon-ho..."  
  
Sun rolls her eyes again, but she smiles. "He loves me, I know that."  
  
The group _pffts_ and waves at her and she cracks a small smile.  
  
"Maybe I like him," she admits quietly.   
  
Nomi frowns at her. "Aren't you, like, living together? That usually means you more than like the person."  
  
"You're living together?" Kala and Riley ask in unison.   
  
"I told you that in confidence," Sun grumps at Nomi, adding to the others after she finishes her drink, "it wasn't intentional. I just...stayed over one night and never left." She reaches for another margarita, eyeing them all, and explains, "In March...there was a night I missed him, we had a date that weekend but I couldn't wait so...I went over to his place."  
  
The others _aw_ and she looks at them all dangerously.  
  
"That's how it was for me and Neets," says Nomi, laughing. "We'd been on...what, three dates?"  
  
Amanita grins as she sips her drink, nodding. "I was waiting for the right time to bring her home and really blow her mind because I knew, I just knew, she was the only one and I'd never meet someone like her again..."  
  
"And I knew I couldn't let her go," agrees Nomi.  
  
They pause to smile and kiss quickly.  
  
"So I had a huge weekend planned for us, we were going to have a picnic at Mount Tamalpais and go home and make dinner and listen to music and drink wine, it was going to be amazing, but someone..."  
  
Nomi starts to laugh. "Um, someone couldn't wait. So she went over to her legendary, stunning girlfriend's house--"  
  
"Hey," chuckles Amanita. "Don't oversell it."  
  
"I'm just telling the truth," says Nomi, adding, "it was what? About two in the morning?"  
  
Amanita laughs, stretching under the water. "It was. You showed up in the middle of the night and kissed me and we had sex--"  
  
"Epic sex."  
  
"Amazing sex."  
  
They both laugh and nudge each other hard. Amanita giggles and collects herself.  
  
"Anyway," she says. "That's how that happened...and we moved in together the next day."  
  
Kala grins and swishes her feet playfully in the water. "Riley, your turn."  
  
Riley laughs and shifts underwater, slurping the last foamy sip of her margarita and reaching for another. "Well, it was some time after you all rescued me from the facility in Iceland...we were in London, and we were in love and everything felt quite certain -- not about the future, of course -- but about us." She smiles. "So we waited until we had a day where nothing was happening, where we wouldn't be distracted and we..." She grins gently and chuckles. "We went to bed together and just...tried everything."  
  
"Ooh," teases Kala and they all laugh.   
  
Riley blushes and shakes her head. "It's really like nothing else."  
  
Kala softens and nods. "Truly."  
  
Riley nods in return and looks at Zakia. "What about you?"  
  
"Are we all sharing now?" laughs Zakia, going on with a shrug, "Well, my story is simple, we went back to my place after our first kiss."  
  
Kala stares. "Just like that? I wish I had that kind of courage." Then she pauses to consider. "Although our first kiss happened at a rather tense moment."  
  
"Now your turn," says Riley with a small smirk.  
  
Kala rolls her eyes, cheeks darkening. "Um..." She stirs her margarita and takes a sip. "Do you want the visiting story or the in-person story?"  
  
"In person," chorus a few of the others.  
  
Kala looks at them all, fluffing her dewy hair and sitting up slightly. "So we were in Paris, you remember, I was there to tell Rajan about..." She sighs. "Things." Then she glares at them all. "And all of you let Wolfgang leave Iceland even though he wasn't medically ready to travel."  
  
"He missed you," says Riley.  
  
"Have you seen his puppy dog eyes?" adds Nomi. "I have no idea how you said no to him for years!"  
  
Kala laughs. "I know, I know. So he met me in Paris, and we walked around the city and it's true about Paris, it's profoundly romantic...and we spent time along the river, drinking wine and then..." She laughs at herself. "What do you think we did? We went to our hotel and.. talked while we kissed and..." She blushes hard. "Making love was rather challenging because of his broken leg but we managed it. I never expected to laugh or talk so much but now I can't imagine sex without communication like that, it's..." She grins and shakes her head as she sips her drink. "It's intoxicating."  
  
Everyone beams and meets eyes. Kala needily drinks her margarita, flushed and tingling slightly at the memory.   
  
A spa attendant arrives with a new round of margaritas and everyone takes one off the floating tray. Kala relaxes in the water, body loose from the drinks, and rests her head lightly on the stone edge. She grins gently.  
  
"I remember," she murmurs, "waiting for my wedding day before and spending every day dreaming of how to get out of it, and now? To have all of you? To feel so sure?" She shakes her head in astonishment. "It's incredible. I love all of you so much."  
  
The others meet eyes and smile, and then Nomi reaches to squeeze Kala's arm.  
  
"When they took Wolfgang last year we were sure you would never be the same," she says quietly. "We were so scared for you, both of you. And I know a thing or two about insurmountable odds...and you know what I like to say about impossibility...you two truly represent that for all of us."  
  
"We thought he would die," murmurs Riley. "And we didn't know if you would ever recover."  
  
"It is a gift," Sun says earnestly, "to be here with you, safe."  
  
Kala sniffles and sips her drink. "Thank you."  
  
Sun nods and she smiles. They all drink for a moment, stretching in the water, and then Dani sighs deeply.   
  
"Okay," she says. "Who's ready?"  
  
The women all nod, dizzy from the heat. They get slowly out of the spa and follow Dani into the locker room. They put on fluffy robes and towel off their hair, and then they go into a small massage parlor. They spend the rest of the afternoon being pampered with hot rocks and deliciously scented oils, and finally wander out of the spa, blissful and so relaxed that they're almost sloppy.   
  
They all grin -- minus Sun -- and link arms, waiting for Felix to pull up alongside the street and pick them up.   
  
Dani kisses Felix hello when he arrives and he shakes his head in disbelief as she pulls away. Kala puts a hand over her heart, watching them. Everyone gets in, and then Felix speeds towards the rooftop pool they'll spend the rest of the evening at.   
  
Once there, they trudge upstairs in a modern, minimalist apartment to reach the sunny rooftop, where there is a large pool and many chairs to tan on. There's an awning with a dining table underneath and an indoor lounge. The entire roof is decorated with lanterns, glowing strings of flowers, and small potted trees.  
  
The women all take their clothing off to reveal their bikinis again, and then they walk up to the pool.  
  
Floating in the pool are several inflatables shaped like...  
  
"Oh!" cries Kala indignantly, staring at the huge, penis-shaped inflatables.  
  
Dani, Riley, and Amanita all giggle hard.  
  
"It's a traditional bachelorette party theme," says Dani, snorting.  
  
"Ew!" complains Kala half-heartedly.  
  
"After you," says Riley, hip-checking Kala into the pool.   
  
She comes up from the water, sputtering, and tugs Riley in by her ankle. Riley laughs loudly and coughs, and soon the other women plunge into the pool. Felix, coming upstairs after all of them, sets out several bottles of champagne and tequila, and then returns to the car to nap.  
  
Dani is the first to get out of the pool, pouring everyone a shot of tequila. Kala eyes it with suspicion -- the last time she was truly drunk was the Oscars, but today threatens to surpass that. She gets out of the pool, cocky, swaying her hips slightly -- she looks down at herself and grins, feeling sultry, and takes the shot glass from Dani.   
  
Dani smirks. "You have a dangerous look when you're tipsy."  
  
"I know," agrees Kala, draining the shot and grimacing. "Wolfgang loves it."  
  
Riley laughs next to her. "I can imagine."  
  
"Let's play Chicken," says Sun after she drinks. "Dani, you and me against Kala and Riley."  
  
Kala nods excitedly. "Yes!"  
  
They reenter the pool Riley grins and nods her head to the side, asking Kala to get on her shoulders, and Dani hops on Sun's shoulders with ease.  
  
"I love you dearly," Dani says to Kala, "but I'll destroy you."  
  
Kala sticks her tongue out playfully and then they tousle, laughing, and Kala sends Dani spilling into the pool. Riley pats her thigh.  
  
"That's Wolfgang's wife..."  
  
Kala grins. "Ha!"  
  
Dani squirts a stream of water at her. "Best of three."  
  
They fight again, and Dani shoves Kala into the water. Kala huffs and drags her off Sun's shoulders out of spite, and then Dani kisses the side of her mouth to distract her. Kala's eyes widen and she pinches Dani hard.  
  
"Unfair," she murmurs.  
  
"Want some more?"  
  
"God," hisses Kala, nudging her towards Sun.   
  
Dani grins and gets on Sun's shoulders again, and Kala -- with a sly smirk -- shoves her into the water. Dani sighs when she comes up, then shakes her head, gets out of the pool for a drink, and flops back on one of the floats.  
  
Kala looks at a nearby float in trepidation. " _Why_ are they shaped like penises?"  
  
"Because they make you uncomfortable," says Sun simply, getting out of the pool to pour some champagne.  
  
Kala sighs. "Collectively, as a concept, penises do not make me uncomfortable. But individual penises might." She sighs again, more exasperated, but then she climbs onto one of the floats and lays back. "I don't like this."  
  
"It really makes you reevaluate the phrase _riding dick_..." murmurs Dani, paddling past her.  
  
"This is immoral," murmurs Kala. "And silly! If the idea of this theme is to tease the bride about the fact that she's going to see her husband naked for the first time...well..."  
  
"Who hasn't seen Wolfgang naked?" wonders Riley.  
  
Kala rolls her eyes. "I can't believe I'm doing this..."  
  
Riley grins and gets out of the pool to hand Kala some sunglasses, her phone, and a glass of champagne. Kala thanks her and leans back, relaxing, letting the sun soak into her skin while she sips her champagne.  
  
"Oh, I'm very drunk," she says observationally after a moment, paddling in the water and grinning at nothing.  
  
"I am too," agrees Zakia, floating beside her in an intertube. "I think we need lunch soon..."  
  
Then Kala's phone buzzes and she glances at it. She squints in the sunlight and gasps indignantly. Sun took a picture of her on the float and texted it to the group chat.  
  
"How dare you?" Kala calls at Sun, who's sitting on a lounge chair and sipping some champagne expressionlessly.   
  
Sun waves and smirks, unconcerned.  
  
Kala looks back at her phone and sees that Wolfgang has responded.   
  
Wolfgang, 6:06 p.m. -- ^That's my wife.  
  
"No..." sighs Kala, typing rapidly.  
  
Kala, 6:07 p.m. -- If you had as many margaritas as me you would also get cozy with a penis.  
  
Wolfgang, 6:07 p.m. -- What do you think Will and I are doing right now since you're gone?  
  
Will, 6:08 p.m. -- ;) ;) ;)  
  
Lito, 6:08 p.m. -- It's very a nice view.  
  
Kala sighs deeply and glares at Sun. "Do you see what you started?"  
  
"I am enjoying every moment," says Sun, gaze fixed on her phone.  
  
Nomi chuckles appreciatively beside her, also looking at her phone, and nods. Kala shakes her head and puts her phone in the cupholder of the float, then uses the side of the pool as a springboard and floats to the other side.   
  
She starts to spontaneously laugh, and suddenly, she can't stop.  
  
"Oh no, oh no, I'm so drunk!" she whispers.   
  
The other women grin and laugh in agreement.   
  
Then Kala gasps happily and shouts, "I want Greek food! Someone order Greek food!"  
  
Twenty minutes later, having cajoled Felix into picking up food from a nearby street vendor, the women dig into spanikopita, hummus, dolmas, pita, and other appetizers, including some seafood that Kala is unfamiliar with. She frowns as she finishes a large square of spanikopita, glancing at an...eel? She picks up the seafood she's eyeing and sees it's an octopus tentacle. She inhales in surprise and drops it.  
  
"I dare you," says Sun, holding her phone up for a picture.  
  
Kala hesitates, and then quickly takes a bite. Her eyes widen in surprise.  
  
"That is...much better than I was expecting," she says. "Although I could do without the suction cups..."  
  
Everyone laughs, continuing to eat, and Sun adds this picture of Kala to the group chat. Kala grumbles at her.  
  
"We have to document this," explains Sun. "So we can blackmail you and show your future children."  
  
Kala sighs and drinks some lemonade. "I think my future children will be more concerned that I've blown people up than they will be about octopus..."  
  
Zakia glances at her. "What's this?"  
  
Kala's eyes drift to the side and she playfully crunches on a piece of cucumber. "Well...Wolfgang has bad judgement...and ran out of bullets...and was outnumbered...but luckily we were in a kitchen and I could make a simple bomb."  
  
"No honey, that's a blessing when it comes to future kids, just tell them what you're capable of and they'll never misbehave," says Dani.  
  
"Somehow I think Kala and Wolfgang's genetic combination won't be intimidated by that," says Nomi with a snort.  
  
Kala laughs. "No. I think we're in for it." She finishes her lemonade and smiles gently. "Not that I love the idea yet. My poor sister, she has a newborn and she simply doesn't sleep, she's called me crying in the middle of the night three times already..."  
  
Sun groans. "Babies."  
  
Everyone laughs at her tone. Then Dani checks her watch and urges the others to finish lunch, and she slides open two huge doors to open the indoor lounge. She grins at the lavish interior.  
  
"Ah, mob connections," she says.  
  
Kala sighs at this, pulling on a cozy swimsuit cover-up, and runs her hands through her hair. She follows the others inside, where there are several leather sofas and a large stereo system.   
  
Dani yells breathily in excitement and dances up to the stereo, plugging her phone in and playing some Ariana Grande. She lugs a box of gifts (that Felix dutifully carried upstairs) out from under the coffee table and pushes it towards Kala. Amanita puts a glass of champagne into Kala's hand and they all gather around her.  
  
Kala tilts her head, clicking her tongue quietly, touched. "You didn't have to buy me anything..."  
  
"Oh, don't get excited," murmurs Riley. "All of these things will embarrass you."  
  
Kala sighs gently. "I don't know why I'm surprised."  
  
She takes a narrow package off the top and unwraps it -- it's several small bottles of oil, each one a pastel color. She bites her bottom lip and squints.  
  
"Massage oil?" she asks.   
  
"It's amazing, trust us," says Nomi, grinning.   
  
"It smells heavenly," adds Amanita, adding with a smirk, "And it's edible."  
  
Kala flashes her dark eyes at them, but she smiles. "At least it isn't lube."  
  
"No, but this is," says Zakia brightly, passing her another box.  
  
Kala rolls her eyes, laughing, and unwraps the new box. She looks at the bottle and raises her brows. "Cupcake flavor?"  
  
Zakia nods. "It truly tastes like that."  
  
Kala covers her face. The other women grip each other and snigger. Kala laughs too, unable to help it, and finishes her champagne. She refills her glass, then examines the bottle in her hands. She reads off the back, turning a deep shade of pink, and then she sets it aside as if it's explosive.  
  
"Okay then," she says lightly, sipping champagne.   
  
She selects a new box, this one from Riley, and unwraps a set of copper bangles held together by a delicate chain.  
  
"Oh! Finally, something normal...thank you, Riley."  
  
"Well, actually," says Riley, barely containing laughter, "if you click that little clasp the chain releases and they turn into a pair of..."  
  
Kala clicks the clasp and gasps. "Handcuffs?"  
  
"In my defense, it was Will's idea," says Riley. "And they do double as jewelry."  
  
"And think how it would feel to wear those in public knowing what you had done in them the night before..." says Dani with a smirk.   
  
Kala covers her face, overheated, and shakes her head rapidly. "No, no, I think these will be used as jewelry and jewelry only..."  
  
The others laugh and Amanita refreshes everyone's champagne. Dani grins and skips to a new song, and then she hands Kala a flat box and smiles warmly at her.  
  
"I think you'll actually like this," she says.  
  
Kala wets her lips nervously and opens up the box, finding black and emerald green lingerie. She softly breathes out and nods, pulling it out of the box.  
  
"I do like it," she murmurs. "I love it." Then she laughs as she carefully folds it back in the box. "And so will he..."  
  
A chorus of teasing and laughter. She blushes and sips her champagne, and then she picks up the last bag. Sun smirks ominously and Kala regards her with caution as she slips her hand into the tissue paper.   
  
She gasps and immediately withdraws it. "Sun!"  
  
Sun grins and leans back, sipping her champagne victoriously.  
  
Riley frowns, leaning forward. "What is it?"  
  
Kala huffs in frustration, then takes a steadying breath and pulls a large, fuschia-colored dildo out of the bag.   
  
"Oh," says Riley, nodding.   
  
"What am I supposed to use this for?" whispers Kala, horrified.   
  
Sun shrugs. "Variety."  
  
"Oh my God," says Kala, adding waspishly, "I don't need any more sex than I'm already getting..."  
  
Dani laughs. "Well, ask him to use it on you, he won't say no..."  
  
Kala groans, staring at the device, turning it over in her hands. She slides her finger unintentionally over a button and it starts to vibrate violently. She shrieks and drops it back into the bag, which bounces off the sofa and buzzes on the floor below. Everyone starts to laugh hysterically.   
  
"Why?" Kala groans.  
  
"Shut it off!" wheezes Riley.  
  
"I don't want to touch it again! It's...it's lifelike!"  
  
The other women lean on each other, all out of breath from laughter, and finally Kala takes the dildo and quickly shuts it off. She breathes out harshly and brushes her hair out of her face, harried.  
  
"I want a picture," Dani says, holding her phone up. "Kala, hold that thing, and glare at Sun for me please."  
  
Kala laughs and obliges, and Dani sends the photo to the group. Kala's phone buzzes immediately and she looks at it.   
  
Wolfgang, 7:41 p.m. -- Is that what I think it is?  
  
Kala, 7:41 p.m. -- Yes.   
  
Will, 7:42 p.m. -- Did you like what Riles got you?  
  
Kala, 7:42 p.m. -- I refuse to talk about it.  
  
Wolfgang, 7:42 p.m. -- At least your sister isn't there.  
  
Kala groans quietly at the thought of Daya seeing these gifts, then dissolves into a fit of giggles and shakes her head.   
  
"Okay," she murmurs after a moment, finishing her champagne and hiccupping. "I am drunk and embarrassed, and I think that was your intention with this party, so I would like to go home and have dinner with Wolfgang--"  
  
"No," says Dani firmly. "We're painting our nails, and watching a movie, and doing each other's hair and then we're going out on the town, we are playing truth or dare, and sweetheart you're tipsy, not drunk. I'll show you drunk."  
  
She gets up, crosses the lounge to a mini fridge, and pulls out a large tray of strawberry margaritas. Kala presses her face into her lap and lets out a long groan. Riley rubs her back reassuringly.   
  
"We won't let you get too drunk," she says.  
  
"Unlike Felix," adds Dani. "You're in safer hands."  
  
Kala lifts up and laughs, nodding, then accepts one of the drinks. They gather around one of the televisions and Dani finds _Bride and Prejudice_ to play. Kala rolls her eyes but determines she's drunk enough to enjoy it.  
  
They all take turns painting each other's nails and braiding each other's hair, and by the time the credits roll, it's nearly ten.   
  
Dani gets a bottle of tequila off the bar nearby and distributes flasks to all the women. They all fill them and put them in purses, and then they get up to put on shoes and light jackets.  
  
When they go outside, the city is bright with warm lights and colorful signs, traffic gently buzzing in the street beside them as they walk.   
  
"Truth or dare is always more fun outside," says Dani as she sips tequila out of her flask. "Kala, truth or dare?"  
  
Kala debates the potential drawbacks of both options. Choosing truth could lead to an embarrassing question she's not prepared to answer, and she's too intoxicated to lie properly; but choosing dare could lead to injury or criminal behavior. She sighs.  
  
"Truth?" she says tentatively.   
  
"What was the last thing you searched for on your phone?" Dani asks, grinning.  
  
Kala relaxes, opening her phone. "I looked up...how to fold fitted sheets."  
  
Dani groans and laughs at once. "Seriously? Ay, you're so boring!"  
  
Kala grins in triumph. "My turn." She scrutinizes the women around her, deciding who to humiliate. Then she smiles. "Sun, truth or dare?"  
  
"Dare," says Sun.  
  
"I dare you...to let Riley tickle you for a full minute."  
  
Riley beams. "Good one."  
  
Sun rolls her eyes and they all stop on the sidewalk. Riley approaches her with her fingers out, wiggling them at her threateningly. She tickles Sun's tummy and arms and Sun stands still, stoic, until Riley goes for the small of her back; then she doubles over, giggling hard, and they hang on each other after a moment, both laughing too much to stand straight. Sun coughs and collects herself, wiping her eyes, and then she grins lightly at Riley.   
  
"Truth or dare?"  
  
Riley hums in thought. "...dare."  
  
Sun nods. "How about...cartwheel down the street."  
  
Riley takes a sip out of her flask. "Gladly!" She pockets the flask, then throws her arms up and cartwheels neatly a few times. She lands unsteadily and nearly knocks over a passerby, but she grins in success at all of them and runs back to them.   
  
They begin to walk again, wandering down a narrow cobble street with lights strung between the walls.   
  
Riley takes another drink and says, "Amanita, truth or dare?"  
  
"Dare baby," she says.  
  
"Let's see...stop a car that is going down the street and tell them that their wheels are turning."  
  
Amanita wrinkles her nose in delight. "Oh, fuck yes. Okay."   
  
They turn a corner, and Amanita quickly chases after the first car she sees. She waves frantically at the driver to pull over and stop, and when he does, she shouts, "Hey Mr., I just wanted you to know that your wheels are turning!"  
  
"Tourists," he hisses, pulling away from the curb.   
  
Amanita throws her hands over her head. "I did it!"  
  
Nomi rolls her eyes and catches up with her, putting an arm around her waist. She beams, stretching on her toes to kiss the side of Nomi's mouth, and then they all continue down the street, overwhelmed with giggles.  
  
"Okay, okay," gasps Amanita. "Noms, truth or dare."  
  
"Um, truth," Nomi says cautiously.  
  
"Ooh, okay, of the people in this group, who would you want to trade lives with?"  
  
Nomi laughs. "You always pick complex philosophical ones, babe. I would...trade with you, because of your family."  
  
Amanita's brows soften and she squeezes her wife. "Aw, poor honey. Good answer."  
  
Kala smiles at this interaction, reaching into her purse to cautiously sip some tequila. She glances up as she walks, eyes seeking the milky skyglow, and she smiles faintly. She reaches into the connection to find Wolfgang, ensuring he's okay -- a habit she indulges almost ten times a day -- and then returns to the balmy street and looks around at her Cluster and her friends, sinking in warmth.  
  
She knows it's a terrible sign that she feels so affectionate and fragile tonight -- it's a sure sign that the alcohol is affecting her.  
  
Nomi nudges Zakia. "Truth or dare?"  
  
She sighs. "Truth."  
  
"Hm, dance for a minute with no music," says Nomi.  
  
Zakia laughs and begins a funky shuffle that works with walking. Everyone grins, impressed, and finally she stops, wipes her brow, and looks at Kala.  
  
"Truth or dare?"

Kala breathes out. "Truth."

"Here is an interesting one. If you could marry more than one person, would you, and who?"

"Oh my Ganesha," says Kala in annoyance. "No! Can you imagine adding a third person to the relationship I have with Wolfgang?" She clicks her teeth. "What a silly idea.

He's more than enough for me and I'm sure he's the only man I could ever love."  


Zakia smiles. "Fair."  


Dani chuckles and sips her tequila. "Okay, new rule. Kala's the bride, she's the important one at this party, so we should only ask her."  


Kala groans. "No!"  


But everyone else agrees, nodding and laughing.   


"Babe, truth or dare?" asks Dani.  


Kala pouts and folds her arms. "Dare."  


Dani grins blindingly. "Got one. Take a sexy selfie, text it to Wolfgang, and read what he says to us."  


Kala tips her head back and sighs loudly, then slows her pace, takes her phone out, and angles it above her head. She giggles madly, glancing around for onlookers, and tugs her tee-shirt down to reveal her cleavage. She looks impishly at the camera and takes a picture, then sends it before she loses the courage.  
  
Wolfgang texts back immediately.  
  
Wolfgang, 10:01 p.m. -- How drunk are you?  
Wolfgang 10:01 p.m. -- Send more.  
  
Kala laughs and covers her face. "Oh no, no...he said, um, he asked how drunk I am and asked for more."  
  
"Sounds like Wolfgang," says Sun.  
  
Kala needily drinks some tequila and texts back.  
  
Kala, 10:02 p.m. -- Dani dared me.  
Kala, 10:02 p.m. -- She and Felix are in love by the way.  
Kala, 10:02 p.m. -- THEY TOLD EACH OTHER THAT WOLFGANG!!!!  
  
Wolfgang, 10:02 p.m. -- I know.  
  
Kala, 10:02 p.m. -- I could cry!!   
  
The others snip at her to get off her phone, so she pockets it. Sun watches her for a moment like a cat might watch a bird, then asks her to choose truth or dare.  
  
"Dare," decides Kala, invigorated by the tequila.   
  
"Sing your national anthem as loud as you can," says Sun.  
  
Kala grins, just drunk enough to be beyond embarrassment, and begins to belt out _Jana Gana Mana_ , throwing her arms wide, exuberant. Several passersby look at the group of tipsy women in concern and shake their heads.   
  
Riley frowns, impressed. "You have a nice voice."  
  
Zakia nods in agreement and she and Riley bump hips, chuckling. Kala finishes the song, overwhelmed by a peel of laughter, and throws back more liquor.   
  
Then she shouts joyfully, "I'm getting married!"  
  
Riley grins and rolls her eyes. "My turn. Truth or dare?"  
  
"Dare!" says Kala confidently, drinking more.   
  
The others exchange a concerned glance but don't stop her.  
  
"Um...trade clothes with me," says Riley.   
  
Kala hesitates, then beams and nods. Riley grins and pulls her into the nearest shop, avoiding the gaze of the salespeople, ducking into the closest restroom together. Riley takes Kala's jacket off and meets her eyes, and Kala pauses, suspended, deciding it wouldn't be so bad to try new things with the Cluster the next time she sleeps with Wolfgang.   
  
"What are you thinking about?" asks Riley as she unbuttons Kala's shorts.  
  
"I...I think I may understand the..."  
  
Riley chuckles and nudges her. "The urge between all of us?"  
  
Kala nods and laughs.   
  
They exchange bottoms, smiling briefly at each other, and keep their shirts as-is considering Kala's says "I'm Getting Married." Then they dart out of the shop, hand in hand, giggling, and find the others waiting with huge ice cream cones in their hands.   
  
Zakia hands them two cones and smiles. Kala moans and eats the top swirl of the ice cream, then looks at Dani.  
  
"Truth or dare?" she asks.  
  
Dani rolls her eyes. "Fine. Dare."  
  
"Give yourself...a mustache," says Kala, extending a permanent marker she's pulled out of her purse.   
  
Dani laughs, pauses as the walk, and holds her phone up as a makeshift mirror. She draws a curvy mustache on her lip and grins widely.  
  
"Nice," she murmurs. She puckers her lips at them all. "Sexy, right?"  
  
Everyone laughs and nods. She puts an arm around Kala’s waist for balance and they both giggle, stumbling.  
  
Dani smirks. “Hey, I have one, now that I’ve got that facial hair you seem to like so much, Kala…”  
  
Kala’s eyes widen slightly, perceiving the next thing Dani will say. She grins, then turns Dani’s chin with her fingertips and kisses her softly.   
  
“There,” she says. “You’re welcome.”  
  
Dani throws her head back and pumps her fist. “YES! Felix owes me two thousand pesos! He told me there’s no way you’d do that!”  
  
Kala beams. “I think I would do anything right now!”  
  
After a few more minutes, tired from the physical toll of dares, Kala switches to truths, which she regrets after questions such as "What's the sexiest part of Wolfgang's body?" ("That V between his abs and his cock"), "What's your biggest turn-on?" ("When he makes me tell him what I want"), "Have you ever practiced kissing in a mirror? ("Yes, constantly as a teenager!")   
  
She switches back to dares around midnight, by which time she's heavy and sleepy with alcohol, pleasantly dizzy. She's a constant stream of unnecessary giggles and interjections, and the city has never looked so beautiful to her as it does tonight, a blur of light, sounds, delicious smells; every step is intoxicating.  
  
Dani, similarly drunk, gestures at Kala with her flask and mumbles, "Okay, I dare you...to steal something."  
  
Some of the others groan in protest.  
  
"Listen, Wolfgang was a criminal, you should at least try it for a night," Dani urges.  
  
"What...what do you want me to steal?" asks Kala.   
  
Dani hums in thought, then shakes her almost-empty flask. "A bottle of wine."  
  
Kala considers. On one hand, risking her future and her career by committing an unnecessary crime seems irrefutably stupid; on the other, it sounds fun, and she can see a late-night market coming up on the left. It couldn't be too difficult if Wolfgang and Felix, not exactly masterminds, pulled it off regularly as teenagers.   
  
"One bottle of wine?" she checks.  
  
Dani nods. Zakia, Nomi, and Sun exchange a wary glance.  
  
"Okay," murmurs Kala cheerfully, too drunk to logically weigh the consequences.   
  
She goes into the market and the other women wait cautiously in the entrance. Kala smiles politely at the store attendant, then goes into the wine section, grabs the first bottle she sees, and puts it into her purse. She walks out of the store with the others, holding her breath. Then an alarm sounds and they all run.   
  
"Oh, shit!" hisses Kala.  
  
"Fuck!" says Nomi and Dani together.   
  
They sprint as best they can considering how much they've had to drink, and then a police car intercepts them and Kala's eyes widen.  
  
"Oh my God, oh my God," she says repeatedly, a hand to her heart.  
  
A burly police officer gets out of the car and looks at the eight of them, shaking his head. He reaches for his handcuffs and Kala steps back.  
  
"Okay, Ma'am, you're coming with me," he says quietly.  
  
Kala's breath fails entirely. "No. No." She looks around in disbelief. "No, I...I didn't..."  
  
"So are all of you," says the officer to the others.   
  
Dani rushes forward and says in English, "Officer, listen, she never does anything wrong, we dared her, we're drunk, please, it's a party--"  
  
He sighs. "I don't understand." He talks into his two-way radio for a moment and the women all look at each other, debating if they should run or fight, not coherent enough to decide.  
  
"I'll put the wine back!" Kala says desperately, starting to cry.  
  
The officer reaches for her. "Hands out."  
  
"Oh my God!" says Kala in disbelief as he cuffs her. She looks wildly at Dani and Riley. "Help me!"  
  
"They're coming too," the officer reassures her, asking for backup.  
  
He pushes her into the back of the car, behind the bars, and she stares at the others, fighting with her handcuffs. She reaches out for Wolfgang, but finds that he's asleep.  
  
"Oh God, oh God..." she says.   
  
The officer puts Dani and Nomi in the back of the car with her, then waits for backups, who arrive quickly and arrest the others.  
  
"What for?" demands Dani.  
  
"Public intoxication," says the officer, starting the car.   
  
She, Nomi, and Kala all stare at each other, frightened, and press close in the back of the car. They don't speak on the short ride to the station, and when they arrive, the officer takes their belongings and escorts them roughly into a small cell with other minor offenders.   
  
Kala sits heavily on the bench, eyes wide, and stares out of the cell. Dani sits close to her.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that was so stupid!" she whispers.  
  
Kala shakes her head listlessly, stunned. "I did it."  
  
"I made you," insists Dani.  
  
She shakes her head again, calculating. She doubts this is more than a misdemeanor and she's sure Nomi can clear her record after the fact, but she can't help but shudder at her own irresponsibility. She closes her eyes when she imagines what Wolfgang will say, and then she leans back against the chilly wall, trying not to cry. The others are put into the cell with them after a moment and they all wait silently.  
  
Finally, the officer returns and raps on the bars.   
  
"You, the Indian one, you want to make a phone call?"  
  
Kala wipes her eyes and hastily nods, getting to her feet. The officer takes her over to an old phone and gestures at it. She dials Wolfgang's number, praying he doesn't ignore the call since it's late.  
  
It rings until she's sure it's about to go to voicemail, but then he picks up, groggy and annoyed. "Kala?"  
  
She gasps in relief. "Wolfgang! Wolfgang, I...I stole something, we all got arrested, we're in jail in..." She looks at the officer for guidance. "Wilmersdorf. Please--"  
  
"Are you joking?"  
  
"No! No, I swear, it isn't a prank, please," she says, starting to cry, "please, I wouldn't joke about this, I'm so drunk and so scared--"  
  
"Okay, okay," he says and she hears the sounds of the bed creaking. "I'll be there, okay? I promise."  
  
"Okay," she says in a small voice. "Please hurry."  
  
"I will, it's okay, Kala, I'll be right there."  
  
She nods. "Thank you." Then she hangs the phone up, sniffling, and looks at the officer, who rolls his eyes and directs her back to the cell.  
  
She sits down and Riley hugs her, looking at Nomi, who shakes her head in incredulity. They wait quietly, watching the other inhabitants of the cell with worry, and after half an hour, begin to drowse despite the urgent circumstances.   
  
Kala finally perks at the sound of Wolfgang's voice, which is angry and impatient.   
  
"Why do you need my name?"  
  
She blinks, vision resolving. She sees him - and Felix, Will, and Mun -- through the bars, conversing with the officer at a desk.   
  
"For paperwork," says the officer tersely.   
  
Wolfgang breathes out. "Fine. Wolfgang Bogdanow."  
  
Kala notices the officer's shoulders dip in defeat. She realizes the name was an implied passkey.  
  
"Bogdanow," mutters the officer, adding, "Of course. Just...just get them out of here, okay?"  
  
Wolfgang nods, relieved, and he and the other men follow the officer to the cell. 

Dani rushes up to the bars and grips Felix's hands through them. 

"You fucked up so much worse than me!" he says in amazement. "So much worse, babe, you got little angel Kala arrested! All I did was get Wolfie shot a few times with paintballs!"

Dani dips her head down. "I know, I know..." Then she gasps, brightening. “But I won! I won, you owe me, Kala kissed me!”

Kala looks at Wolfgang, eyes wide, and watches as his concern transforms instantly into amusement. He puts his hands on his hips and watches her for a moment, starting to laugh. 

"Really?" he asks her.

She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head silently. He laughs in earnest, unsure which detail to pick apart first -- the fact that Dani has a mustache? The swapped clothes of Kala and Riley? Kala's shaky stance, betraying how much she's had to drink?

He pulls his phone out and, despite the chorus of protests from the women, takes a picture of her.

"Future mother of my children," he murmurs as he pockets his phone.

Will and Mun both shake their heads. 

"Look, you two are criminals, you can't be surprised if your girlfriends do this," says Will. 

Mun nods. "But we're cops. This is...embarrassing."

"You've been arrested, Will!" shouts Riley.

"You're lucky to have me!" Sun adds to Kwon-ho.  
  
Both men dissolve into astonished laughter. Then the officer sidles over, disgruntled, and unlocks the cell.   
  
Kala bursts out and throws her arms around Wolfgang, breathing hard. He chuckles and hugs her tightly.  
  
"I thought you'd be able to steal a simple bottle of wine, that's disappointing," he teases.  
  
She misjudges the humorous tone and shakes her head miserably. "I know, I know..."  
  
"Really?" he goes on. "You couldn't manage this? Imagine if you didn't have me to bail you out..."  
  
She clenches her teeth and clings against him, close to tears.  
  
"Who can't steal a bottle of wine? All you had to do was run..."  
  
"Stop, stop," she mumbles, crying. She pulls back, tears falling openly over her cheeks. She sobs drunkenly. "Are -- are you terribly mad at me? No, don't tell me, this was so stupid, I'm so sorry--" She leans her head against his chest and weeps.   
  
He tries hard not to laugh, stroking her hair. "No babe, I'm not mad at you."  
  
She lifts her head hopefully. "Really?"  
  
He nods. "No."  
  
"Really?" she squeaks. "I ruined everything, everyone will hate us--"  
  
"Who?" he asks warmly. "It's okay. Everything is fine." Then he snorts and laughs openly. "You got arrested."  
  
"Did...are we...did the officer--"  
  
Will claps Wolfgang's shoulder and addresses Kala. "You're free to go. Guess the Bogdanow name still works."  
  
Kala brightens. "Thank God..."  
  
Wolfgang puts an arm around her waist to steady her. "Let's go home."  
  
She nods gratefully and they all walk out of the station after collecting their belongings.   
  
Kala clings to Wolfgang, exhausted, and then she hugs all the women goodbye, half-laughing, half-crying, and gets into the passenger's seat of Wolfgang's car. When he shuts his door, the sudden silence transports her away from the excitement of the night and she breathes out, on edge.  
  
"Are you sure you aren't upset?" she murmurs.   
  
"No, this is fucking hilarious," he says honestly, squeezing her knee.   
  
She sighs. "I feel so foolish--"  
  
"Everything is okay," he says measuredly, adding, "you never did dumb shit as a kid like me. You have to at some point."  
  
She sighs again, grinding her palms into her eyes. When she opens her eyes, the car tilts in her vision and her stomach clenches.   
  
"Wolfgang," she says. "Drive slowly please."  
  
"Are you going to throw up?"  
  
"No, no," she reassures him. "I'm just...queasy."  
  
He nods unsurely, watching her as he pulls away from the curb. She leans exhaustedly on the door of the car, watching the city swoop past, distorted in her vision. She shuts her eyes and groans.  
  
"I had too much," she mumbles.  
  
"You think?" murmurs Wolfgang.  
  
She sighs. "I'm so embarrassed..."  
  
He smirks gently. "Babe, this is nothing."  
  
She starts to cry anew. "Don't tell my family."  
  
He shakes his head and squeezes her hand. "I won't."  
  
They pull up to their apartment after another moment and he guides her slowly inside. She kicks her sandals off, stumbling, and he keeps a hand on her until she reaches their bedroom. She collapses on the bed, an arm over her eyes, and he helps her put her pajamas on. Then he gets her a large glass of water and some medicine. She drinks the water and takes the pills without complaint, then flops against the pillows.   
  
He gets into bed next to her after stripping to his boxers and hugs her close. She giggles at herself, overwhelmed, and he chuckles.   
  
"Something dark and wicked," he mumbles.  
  
She laughs loudly. "It was just a bottle of wine!"  
  
"No, you're a criminal at heart," he insists.  
  
She continues to laugh, more feebly, exhausted. She yawns hugely and snuggles into him, savoring the warmth.   
  
"I know," she mumbles. "I am."  
  
"Fuck, I love you," he says, almost as tired as she is.  
  
She grins. "I love you. Thank you for rescuing me."  
  
"Always," he mumbles.  
  
Then he smiles, kissing her temple; he brings her closer and they fall asleep together. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will answer all comments tomorrow! <3


	38. June 7, 11:48 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala's family arrives in Paris for the wedding. Priya sees Wolfgang in a new light and Sanyam makes an extra effort to be kind. Wolfgang spends time with Felix, and the Cluster surprises Kala and Wolfgang with some final congratulations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write a hopeful, emotional chapter because I know many of us could use that right now.

Kala walks through the cozy Paris hotel room, eating a dish of yogurt and blueberries and relaxing in a silk robe. She pauses as she passes the bed -- Wolfgang is still asleep on his stomach, utterly relaxed in the sun streaming in through the window nearby.  
  
Kala's mouth curves into a gentle smile. It's nearly noon and he rarely sleeps in; she smirks, realizing she wore him out last night, and then she sets her yogurt aside. She makes some French press coffee, dispenses it into two mugs, and goes to the bed.

She sinks onto it next to him, puts the coffee down, and deliberately pokes his cheek. She sees his brow twitch in annoyance, but he smiles.

"What are you doing?" he mumbles.

She grins playfully and shakes him. "Wake up."

He turns over, blinking in the sun. "What time is it?"

"Almost midday," she murmurs, tilting her head and sliding a hand over one of his pecs.

He frowns. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring..."

He laughs and sits up, then reaches for the coffee she poured for him. He smiles and kisses her quickly before taking a sip, and she grins and settles on his lap, also drinking coffee. She watches him tenderly for a moment and then slowly smiles.

"Hey," he says, glancing at her. "We're getting married tomorrow."

She tilts her head back and grins hugely. He grins too and squeezes her waist.

"I can't believe it," she says blissfully.

He shakes his head in agreement, watching her. "No."

She leans closer, her arms around his neck She touches her nose to his and beams, and they look into each other's eyes for a moment, listening to birds warble outside while cars rumble by. She thumbs softly over his lips and the light in his eyes transforms, suddenly grateful and astonished. He inhales, holding her closer.

"Do you know how much I love you?" he mumbles.

Her fingers tighten on his shoulders. "Tell me."

He chuckles and kisses her, and when he pulls away, he murmurs, "More than I've ever loved anyone. More and more every day."

Kala slides her nose against his and kisses him again. The last few days have passed with a similar, soft desperation for each other, a giddy impatience for the wedding to arrive.

"And I love you more than I ever realized was possible," she replies.

He kisses her hard and she smiles against his lips, dizzy with happiness. She moans quietly as the kiss deepens and pulls away before she loses herself to the moment.

"As much as I want to make love with you--"

"How?" he whispers. "Kala, we had sex for hours last night."

She gasps teasingly. "Is Wolfgang Bogdanow telling me he doesn't want more?"

His gaze shifts thoughtfully to the side and he tilts his head. Then he grins, a wild light entering his eyes as he looks at her again.

"No," he admits, sliding his hands up the front of her body.

"Well, too bad," she whispers, wriggling out of his grip and getting to her feet. "Because we have to meet my family at the airport."

He tips his head down and groans. "Babe..."

She grins and tugs on his wrist. "Hurry, get dressed..."

He gets to his feet and gestures at himself. "I thought I would go like this, is that okay?"

She sweeps her gaze over his nude form and pretends to be puzzled. "I feel like your outfit is missing something..."

He laughs and pushes her gently towards their suitcases.

She grins and pulls him after her, selecting a dark blue tee-shirt, tailored khaki shorts, and boxers for him, and takes out a sundress patterned with aquamarine flowers for herself. Wolfgang glances at it and smirks.

"Is that the dress you wore when you blew up a car in Seoul?"

She nods. "I always feel particularly dangerous when I wear this." Then she looks at him, softening. "Why do you remember that?"

"I was probably paying more attention to you than to what was happening," he says with a tiny chuckle.

"Maybe that's why you found yourself in so many dangerous situations," she murmurs. "You were always distracted."

He nods and accepts the clothes she picked for him, stepping away to put them on while she changes into the dress. She puts on chunky white sandals with heels and quickly spritzes on perfume, then tosses some cologne to Wolfgang.

"Do I have to?" he asks.

"I like it," she says as she fastens her earrings on. "And so will the women in my family..."

He shakes his head in a long-suffering manner and dabs some on. She waits while he brushes his teeth and he returns from the bathroom, rubbing his fingers over his stubble.

"Will your aunt criticize this?" he asks.

She grins. "I don't care what she has to say."

He shakes his head, smirking, and pulls their sunglasses off the table near the door. He gives her pair to her and they smile quickly at each other in the doorway.

"Are you ready to meet Daya and her newborn baby and are you prepared to be my impulse control so I don't say something hateful about how much he cries?"

Wolfgang nods. "I'll balance you out by saying how cute he is."

She rolls her eyes and takes his hand as they exit and walk down the hallway to the elevators.

"He is cute," admits Kala. "The pictures she sent last week?" She clicks her tongue. "What a little angel. Besides the senseless crying and the fact that he won't sleep at night." She pauses and frowns. "Angel was perhaps too generous."

Wolfgang laughs and shifts to put an arm around her as they step into the elevators. They glance at each other and smile again, and then Kala nestles her head against his arm until they step into the lobby. They go in search of the metro station nearby and ride to the airport to meet the Dandekars.

They look at each other in solidarity while they wait outside the secure zone for them. Then they hear a baby crying and glance down the hall to their left, where they see Sanyam, Priya, Ina, and Daya, who's carrying Sai -- he's crying at the top of his lungs.

Kala nods and exhales, unsurprised by this.

Sanyam waves exuberantly and they all hurry through the crowd to reach Kala and Wolfgang -- Kala grins hugely, overwhelmed, and Wolfgang greets them with a still-careful smile. Kala throws her arms around her parents and hugs them, then Ina, then kisses Daya's cheek because hugging her is impossible with a baby in her arms.

Sanyam shakes Wolfgang's hand vigorously, then pulls him into a tight hug. Wolfgang relaxes and smiles more sincerely.

"Long flight?" he asks, glancing at Sai.

Sanyam shuts his eyes tiredly and nods.

"Never have children," says Daya exhaustedly, bouncing Sai so his crying softens. "Oh my word, I'm asleep on my feet..."

She passes Sai to Kala, who carefully supports his head and scrutinizes him, gaze warm. Wolfgang watches her for a moment, studying her expression, which is gentle and affectionate. She touches a fingertip to Sai's nose as his crying abates and she grins when he hiccups. Wolfgang holds his breath, unexpectedly overwhelmed by this sight, and he looks at Priya in surprise when she taps his arm.

She gives him the smallest, most maternal smirk he's ever seen in his life.

"You know, if we work together, I'm sure we can change her mind about children," whispers Priya.

Wolfgang laughs and flushes slightly. "Sure."

"Oh, now he stops crying," sighs Daya. "Three hours of crying on the plane..."

Wolfgang puts an arm around Kala, glancing down at the baby and brightening.

"Maybe he likes his auntie..." he says, hoping this implies Kala is better with children than Daya is, since he's still cross about her untimely phone call last month.

"It's more likely that he exhausted himself," grumbles Daya, taking Sai back from Kala and snuggling him.

Kala looks at Sai for another moment and then blinks as if remembering herself. She stiffens and pulls her purse higher on her shoulder, looking at Wolfgang, who does his best not to smirk smugly.

He helps Daya and Priya with their bags and they all walk towards the exit of the airport and into the bright afternoon. Kala takes her father's arm and smiles gently at him.

"You'll adore Paris," she says warmly. "We'll show you around today."

Sanyam smiles. "I imagine I will. It's all very exciting." He glances at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than last time," she says quietly.

Sanyam chuckles and pats her hand. She smiles at him again and they continue towards the metro. She listens in as Wolfgang talks to Priya, Daya, and Ina, who pester him with questions about the wedding and Paris.

Kala's family puts away their things at their hotel once they arrive in the city, and then they all go for a walk towards the Luxembourg Gardens. Sanyam laughs cheerfully and points out the architecture of every building they pass, and Priya and Ina cling to each other and whisper breathlessly. Kala and Wolfgang take hands and point out interesting landmarks to her parents.

They stop for pastries, cheese, and wine, and then settle in the gardens for a picnic. Daya sets Sai on the blanket and he stares at the sky, eyes exploring everything. Kala tickles his tummy while she eats a peach, long hair obscuring her face while she smiles and laughs. Wolfgang watches her with a serene, longing expression until she looks up at him, prompting him to glance away quickly. She presses her lips together, struggling not to laugh, and then she leans over to kiss his cheek.

She notices a faint blush when she pulls away, which she would tease him for under any other circumstances, but she simply smirks and leans against him. He puts an arm around her and they turn to Priya and Sanyam, who are distributing cheese and bread and pouring everyone small glasses of wine.

"You two must be jittery with excitement," Priya says warmly.

Kala smiles, accepting a glass of wine. She and Wolfgang look at each other for a moment.

"I think we're restless, yes," agrees Kala. "But not nervous."

Wolfgang nods, glancing at Kala once more before saying, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Kala softens and looks at her parents. "Do you hear him?"

Priya shakes her head, grinning lightly, and Ina chuckles.

"He's too nice to you, Kala, you'll become so spoiled," says Ina.

"He's honest when he needs to be," murmurs Kala.

Wolfgang nods, sipping the wine Priya's just handed him. Daya shifts to sit closer to them all, nibbling on some grapes.

"It will be very interesting to see a Western-style wedding," she observes. "I've seen them in movies of course but I can't wait to participate."

Kala smiles. "At least this ceremony is short."

"Try not to faint this time," says Wolfgang with an insolent smirk.

Kala fixes him with a stare and crunches on a slice of apple menacingly. He quirks an eyebrow, unfazed, and drinks his wine.

Sanyam and Ina chuckle, while Priya shakes her head and exhales.

"That was actually quite frightening," she informs Wolfgang. "She fainted so suddenly as if she saw a ghost!"

Wolfgang's smirk intensifies and Kala's cheeks take on a rosy tinge. She clears her throat and tilts her wine into her mouth needily. Then Sai starts to cry and Daya leans her head back, groaning.

"No!" sighs Daya. "Why? I fed you on the plane..."

"Newborns are very fussy, my love," says Priya measuredly.

Daya sighs and picks up Sai, who continues to scream and struggle, and after a moment she hands him to Kala, leans back, and rubs her eyes. Kala frowns and bounces him, but he continues to cry. Then she glances at Wolfgang and he sees her lips twitch in consideration.

"Kala, I--" he tries to preempt, but she puts the baby into his arms before he can stop her. His eyes widen. "I-- I've never done this--"

"Just support his head," says Kala calmly.

Wolfgang inhales, agitated, and does what she asks. He bites his bottom lip, watching the baby's face, then bounces him.

"Why are you crying, huh?" he mumbles after a moment. "What could be wrong with your life? You're two weeks old."

Priya chuckles at this. Kala watches hopefully, holding her breath, and then she grins widely as the baby starts to quiet down.

"I told you that you would like him eventually, Mom," she says to Priya. "Look how good he is at this..."

Daya sits up and looks at Wolfgang in amazement as Sai relaxes. Then she looks at her sister questioningly.

"I had a feeling," Kala murmurs, heart pounding at the image.

Wolfgang glances at her in astonishment, visibly softening. "What did I do?"

"You have a soothing voice," says Kala fondly, adding as she squeezes his bicep, "and these help. Babies like being held in arms like yours. It's calming."

Wolfgang raises his eyebrows.

"It's a scientific fact, Wolfgang," she tells him.

He starts to laugh and shake his head, and so do the others. Kala watches him for a moment, mirroring his expression from earlier, dazed and inexplicably giddy. Wolfgang smiles and tilts his head.

"How can a human be this small?" he mumbles.

Kala's heart twinges painfully and she scolds herself for the attachment she suddenly feels to this.

"Look," she laughs, extending her finger so the baby wraps a hand around it.

Priya, Sanyam, and Ina look at each other with knowing, hopeful eyes, and then Daya smirks.

"So," she says, voice intentionally obnoxious. "How many do you want?"

Wolfgang glances at Kala, who flushes, flustered.

"It's up to her," he says with a soft grin.

She shakes her head. "I'm not sure yet. At least the idea doesn't frighten me anymore." Then she smiles. "Daya, this child is very sweet, look at his eyes! They look like little sparkling coffee beans..."

Wolfgang looks at Kala, and says, voice influenced by a chuckle, "Like what?"

She grins. "The description just came to me, Wolfgang."

He laughs and resists the urge to pull her yet closer in front of her family. They stay this way for a moment, and then he glances up at the arrival of Felix and Dani -- Felix is freckled and tan from two weeks in Mexico and is grinning hugely.

Wolfgang realizes it was a mistake to mention which specific gardens they would be at today. He stiffens slightly, envisioning what Felix could say in front of three elderly conservative people the day before his wedding to their daughter.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

Felix opens his mouth to speak, but then he stops, staring. "Why are you holding a baby? Who let you hold a baby? What the fuck do you know about babies, Wolfie?"

"A baby! Oh, a baby, look!" Dani murmurs repeatedly in the background.

Kala clears her throat and subtly gestures at her family.

"Oh, oh..." breathes Felix. "Hello, Dandekars! I'm Felix, I'm Wolfie's best man, and this is my extraordinary girlfriend Dani."

Dani beams and waves.

Felix points at Wolfgang and says quickly, "This is like...some freaky precognition shit. I swear, I've seen this before, except in the future and it's your kid." Then he turns to Priya and says, just as rapidly, "Do you know how lucky they are to be together? They went through so much bullshit, man!"

Felix said all of this in German, and left the Dandekars confused. Wolfgang smiles patiently.

"This is my closest friend, Felix," he explains in Hindi. "And his girlfriend, Dani. I didn't know they were coming." He turns to Felix. "Do you think this is the best time?"

Felix shrugs and sits down with Dani, shaking everyone's hands.

"They're as good as my in-laws if you're as good as my brother."

Wolfgang smiles at this but shakes his head, then communicates what Felix said to the others, adding that they grew up together.

"Do you speak English?" queries Daya. "Because we understand that quite well."

Wolfgang sighs and murmurs to Daya, "You don't know what you just got yourself into."

"Sure," says Felix, adding to Daya as he gestures at the baby, "cute kid, he's yours?"

She smiles and nods. "Yes, thank you."

Felix gestures at Kala and Wolfgang, still addressing Daya. "Listen, if your family's nervous these two won't have kids, they will. They can't keep their hands off each other."

Kala covers her face. Priya and Sanyam laugh unexpectedly, trying to hide it, while Ina openly chuckles. Kala glances at them through her fingers.

"Times are changing," says Ina in explanation, crunching on a piece of bread and cheese. "Did I tell you my astrologist--"

"Yes!" sighs Kala.

"You didn't know what I was going to say," says Ina. "My astrologist says many children."

"You said that last time," murmurs Kala.

Ina shrugs and takes a sip of wine. Kala exhales, watching them all with soft, cautious eyes. She assumes their warmth towards her and Wolfgang was a deliberate act of courtesy -- it would be unthinkable, even for Ina, to be cold the day before the wedding. Now, however, she wonders if their feelings have more genuinely transformed, but she shelves the question for later when they're all alone.

She glances at Wolfgang to communicate these feelings, and then hands Felix and Dani a small plate of snacks and two glasses of wine.

"How did you meet?" Daya asks Felix.

He grins and pops a fat slice of brie into his mouth. "Detention. I was there for...something, I don't know, I was always there. He was in for fighting."

Daya raises her eyebrows at Wolfgang. "What's this?"

"Kids fight," says Wolfgang with a shrug.

Felix rolls his eyes and stretches his lanky legs out. "Not as much as you did. But, understandable, the whole Berlin situation."

"Oh yes," Sanyam says in interest. "That must have posed a variety of problems. Other children disliked you because you were from the East, if I remember correctly?"

Wolfgang nods.

"That and his family--" begins Felix before Dani looks at him with amused but cautionary eyes. He clears his throat. "Um. Respected family from the East. Kids were jealous."

"Respected..." mumbles Wolfgang in German with a dark flicker in his eyes.

"Oh," says Sanyam. "What did they do?"

Kala plasters on an excited smile and says, "Not to interrupt, but I believe we would all enjoy some dessert now. Mom, would you and Auntie like to go get ice cream for us all? There's a lovely place just down the street, I can show you more of the city while we walk there."

Wolfgang glances at Kala gratefully and she smiles. Ina and Priya shrug and agree, and Daya gets up with them and Kala to go get ice cream.

Sanyam starts to smile.

"I presume what your family did is not something that is, ah...palatable for my wife and sister-in-law?"

Wolfgang breathes out and pets baby Sai's nose to comfort himself. He smiles distantly, reflecting on his last conversation with Sanyam about this topic, and then he shrugs.

"You could say that," he agrees.

Sanyam takes a slow sip of wine while Dani and Felix look at each other warily.

"I remember, when we visited you in September, I noticed when there was a loud noise outside...well, you looked as though you were reaching for a gun," says Sanyam kindly.

Wolfgang nods. "I was. I still have reflexes from..." He glances up, gauging the tone, considering that Kala took her mother, sister, and aunt away to give him an opportunity to be honest with Sanyam, the only family member who would react without judgment. "My family was part of the Russian mob for a very long time. It was my life until I was nearly twenty-eight, I'm not proud of it, but I did everything I could when I met your daughter to move on from it."

"He didn't have a choice," adds Felix quietly. "He was born into it, and all the men in his family..." He whistles. "I don't know the word in your language, but believe me, the worst people I ever met."

"Evil," adds Dani sincerely.

Sanyam nods slowly. "To be honest, I did expect something like this." He looks at Wolfgang. "See, there is something in your eyes. My father fought in a conflict with Pakistan before I was born, and well, your mannerisms remind me of his. I always thought you must have seen too much." He shakes his head compassionately. "I assume Kala knows everything?"

"Everything," says Wolfgang, adding more quietly, "Thank you."

Sanyam smiles, then chuckles and shakes his head. He gestures at Wolfgang with the baby. "I would be concerned, but you seem to have a soft side."

Wolfgang smiles in agreement. "At least with your daughter."

"I imagine that must have been very difficult," says Sanyam, adding more pear slices to his plate and refreshing his wine. "I've always heard that these criminal networks are like cults. It is almost impossible to leave."

Wolfgang shrugs. "It's a dangerous life, almost my entire family is gone, and that made it easier for me."

Sanyam shakes his head, fascinated. "I imagine you can keep my daughter safe, for example, if someone tries to break in..."

Wolfgang laughs. "Yes."

Felix grins. "Yeah, you don't have to worry about that."

"Although Kala can be feisty," murmurs Dani.

Sanyam chortles. "Oh, she can. Once, she was home alone with her mother and sister, and a big viper slithered into the living room from outside. And Kala, she was about ten, she picked up this huge snake and flung it outside before it could reach her little sister."

Wolfgang glances at Sanyam and shakes his head, grinning. "That's Kala."

Sanyam nods, laughing more loudly. "I am not sure if she knew it was dangerous or she simply reacted, but it is my favorite story about her. Priya says she didn't blink about it." He softens and smiles. "She has always been very protective of the people she loves."

"Wolfie too," says Felix, finishing off his wine. "He's saved my ass multiple times. They'll take care of each other."

"That's what marriage mostly is," says Sanyam, nodding.

Wolfgang glances up, sensing Kala is returning, and sees her and her relatives coming across the grassy expanse between the tree they're sitting under and a large bed of tulips. She widens her eyes at him to express her exhaustion with her family, balancing three large ice cream cones.

She reaches them and gratefully hands off two of the cones to her father. Priya, Ina, and Daya distribute the rest, and then Kala sits near Wolfgang and looks at him in surprise.

"You're still holding him?" she murmurs.

"He fell asleep," says Wolfgang.

Daya beams. "Oh, what an angel." She adds jokingly to Wolfgang, "I'm keeping you around."

Everyone chuckles. Kala feeds Wolfgang spoonfuls of ice cream so he doesn't wake up Sai, and the others chat about the wedding and the weather.

At mid-afternoon, they all pack up and get to their feet, intending to return to their hotels to prepare for the wedding. Kala kisses Wolfgang goodbye and he leaves with Felix and Dani, returning to their hotel, and Kala leaves with her family to go back to theirs.

They paid for a large suite to accommodate them all, which features a small kitchenette -- essential for Sanyam to make Kala her favorite foods before the wedding. Kala relaxes as she steps into the suite, taking in the sight of her family's belongings. She breathes in the scent of sandalwood and myrrh and grins.

"You've brought the scent of home with you all," she murmurs.

Sanyam chuckles in agreement, taking his shoes off at the door along with the others. Kala smiles and runs her hands through her hair, then follows her mother to a balcony adjacent to the suite. Ina carries a small teak box of henna equipment out and sets it on the table, and then Priya goes inside and returns with a loosely-wrapped package.

She hands it to Kala, who cautiously smiles and tugs at the ribbon. She opens it to reveal a robin-egg-blue sari, slightly shiny in the summer light. Her heart pangs and her shoulders soften.

"Oh, Mom," she says.

Priya smiles. "We figured that you would like...to recreate the last time we did this, so you will have a memory that doesn't frighten you so much, so we figured you would like something traditional to wear"

Kala nods, wiping a tear from her cheek. She gets up to change into the sari and when she returns, her mother and aunt have laid out several dishes of henna paste. She pauses in the doorway, looking over the city, and then she shuts her eyes and smiles hugely.

The last few days have felt strangely slowed-down, as if she was suddenly graced with the ability to perceive each moment as a whole, distinct and in sequence. Her time with Wolfgang has felt unchained and pure, an echo of their first experiences together, and memories of their life together continue to find her and demand to be felt. Every moment she re-experiences, whether it is good or bad, reassures her that her choice to be with Wolfgang, finally, is right.

She tips her head down, her smile softening as she recalls how they spent one morning last week -- lying side by side along the river in Berlin, listening to each other's music to choose wedding songs. She teased him about his collection of classical songs, his inclination for pop divas, and his predictable love for dark, sensual songs. He taunted her for her extensive collection of Bollywood ballads and cheerful folk music that Riley got her into. But after an hour, they stopped bothering each other about differences and turned on their sides to meet eyes and tenderly stare while they listened. Kala's sure she's never gone so long without feeling a need to speak.

"Kala?" her mother asks gently.

Kala breathes in. "Oh. Oh, I was...reflecting."

"Are you alright?" checks Ina.

Kala nods, smiling hard. "Yes. I've never been so alright."

Priya chuckles and pats the chair so Kala sits down. Ina pulls her chair behind Kala's and begins to neatly comb her hair, and Priya settles next to her and reaches for Kala's forearm. Kala breathes out slowly, heart pattering.

"Oh my," she whispers as her mother reaches for a paintbrush. "Deja vu."

Priya chuckles. "Yes. Although this time..." She trails off and pats Kala's wrist with her fingers, "...you are not shaking so badly."

Kala tongues over her bottom lip, nearly laughing. "Oh, I was so nervous, I was sure I was going to vomit."

"Yes, you looked rather green," murmurs Ina as she works with Kala's hair. "But we assumed it was a girl's typical pre-wedding nerves..."

Priya begins the first floral spiral of the henna tattoo and Kala's eyes dance as she looks out at the city.

Mom, Auntie?" she says quietly after a moment, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful but you were...rather angry when you first found out about me and Wolfgang. What...what happened exactly?"

Ina smiles. "Your mother and I talked."

"Yes," agrees Priya. "We came to the conclusion that there was nothing we could do and feel right about doing. You obviously love this man, Kala, and if we discouraged you or took that from you? We would feel quite terrible. And while we don't understand why you went about all this the way you did, what's done is done and we would be depriving you of something no one should lose."

"Love," explains Ina. "Clearly, you did not love your last husband the way we envisioned. But you do love this man."

Kala nods slowly, and then she sniffles. "I do."

Sanyam comes onto the porch with a glass of guava spritzer for Kala, a glass of lassi for Priya, and a snifter of brandy for Ina. He smiles warmly and squeezes Kala's arm.

"It would be easier," he says dryly, "if you all enjoyed the same drinks."

Kala grins at him. "Thanks, Dad."

He chuckles and departs, and Priya continues to work on Kala's tattoo after taking a sip of lassi. Kala watches her peacefully for a moment, and then closes her eyes, focusing on the feeling of gentle fingers in her hair as Ina braids it.

Meanwhile, Felix and Wolfgang sit outside at a small bar, sharing beers and watching passersby. Felix, who's had three beers in short time, leans back and puts his feet on a nearby chair. He sighs contentedly and Wolfgang chuckles, tilting his head back in the dense sunlight.

"Tell me something, Wolfie," Felix says.

Wolfgang's lips twitch in amusement.

"Did you think you'd end up with her?" asks Felix. "Like, really end up with her?

Wolfgang glances at him, surprised by his soft tone. He sits up slightly, lifting his beer to his lips while he considers.

"That's hard to answer," he says honestly after taking a drink. "I knew how I felt about her, and I knew she felt the same way...and at the time I didn't see how inevitable it was that we would be together because there was her family and Rajan." He takes another sip of beer and shakes his head. "I was wrong to think they were the problem. The problem was BPO because the only thing that would have prevented us from being together is one of dying."

Felix looks at him for a moment, and then he finishes his beer and sets it aside with a clang, surprised that his brother's talking at length.

"It was the surest I've ever felt about anything in my life and somehow it still felt uncertain," Wolfgang goes on, shrugging. "It's hard to describe."

"You probably felt sure about her, but you thought one of you would die," says Felix reasonably, adding, "and I still don't know how the fuck one of you didn't, especially you, you dumb lug..."

Wolfgang nods and cocks his head as he finishes his beer. "It was close."

"You have a fucking guardian angel, Wolfie," says Felix, shaking his head. "So do I. How many close calls have we had?"

Wolfgang leans back. "Too many, Felix."

"What are you going to do now?" murmurs Felix, motioning at the waiter for more beer.

Wolfgang shrugs gently, then smiles. "There's a few of us who want to do something for all the kids whose parents died at BPO, they need homes and places to stay. I'll do something with that."

"Hey, you know what else you should do?" says Felix. "You should advise, like, banks and museums about security shit. There's all sorts of valuable shit in Paris, you'd be fucking great at that."

Wolfgang looks at him for a moment, caught off-guard. "Felix...why didn't I think of that...ten years ago?"

"Because you like fucking the system," says Felix.

Wolfgang nods slowly. "Yeah..."

"But c'mon man, this is perfect!" says Felix enthusiastically. "You better do this or you'll return to your old ways."

Wolfgang starts to laugh. "Fuck, Felix, you're brilliant."

Felix thrusts his arms over his head. "Thank you! Finally, some fucking recognition!"

Wolfgang shakes his head and continues to laugh. The waiter returns with more beer and Felix takes a huge gulp out of his glass.

"Speaking of your old ways," he says as he sets his glass down hard, "I can't believe you told your father-in-law all that shit!"

Wolfgang shrugs. "He's an understanding person."

"Yeah, but fuck, man," mumbles Felix, adding with a shake of his head, "they all seem to like you though, you lucked out with that."

Wolfgang nods in agreement after taking a drink. "Her mother and aunt didn't at first."

"Well, yeah, you'd probably feel the same if you walked in on your innocent daughter with, you know, someone like you."

"Kala's twenty-nine," says Wolfgang.

Felix pauses, then drinks his beer. "That's true." Then he grins. "Looking forward to the honeymoon?"

Wolfgang nods and says, straight-faced, "Yeah, I finally get to see her naked."

Felix groans through a gulp of beer, then sets his glass down and says, "Can't you answer like a normal person?"

Wolfgang shakes his head pensively. "You know I've always believed in waiting, Felix."

Another groan. "Yeah, you're a saint, Wolfie."

Wolfgang finally laughs and drinks his beer, and then he leans back and tilts his head up to look at the rooflines above, vermillion stucco shingles, overcrowded with pigeons. He smiles slightly.

"I wouldn't change anything about my life," he mumbles, watching the pigeons ripple off the roof as cumulous clouds form and reform in the azure sky. "Do you know what it feels like to say that?"

Felix exhales, and then he says, "Actually, yeah."

They look at each other and smile warmly for a moment. Then Felix drinks his beer and shakes his head.

"Fuck, man, life's strange," he says.

Wolfgang nods in agreement, replying, "I'm not saying I believe in God--"

"Oh boy," says Felix. "Here we go."

Wolfgang sits forward and gestures with his hands to preempt another comment "I'm not saying I believe in God, but I can't explain why this happened to me, why she happened to me. What are the chances that I'm a Sensate  _and_ one of the women in my Cluster is Kala? I would have fallen in love with her no matter what, but I would never have met her if she wasn't in my Cluster." He takes a breath and forms the faintest smile. "If miracles exist...that's one."

Felix watches him for a moment with undisguised relief and affection. Then he shakes his head, smiling.

"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "The universe owed you a miracle, brother, it was about fucking time."

Wolfgang leans his head lightly on his hand. "It's strange though because all this was inevitable from the day we were born."

Felix shakes his head seriously. "Becoming a Sensate was inevitable. Surviving all the shit you went through? Wolfie, that was the fucking opposite of inevitable."

Wolfgang watches him for a moment, and then he softens, drinks his beer, and nods.

"You're right," he admits. Then he grins and shakes his head. "You know Felix, sometimes I think I've fallen in love with her in every universe that's ever existed and this is the first universe where I actually get to love her, because...I feel like I've waited more than one lifetime for this."

Felix slowly shakes his head. "Being in love makes you say some fucking syrupy shit, Wolfie..."

Wolfgang laughs, flushing slightly, and finishes his beer. Then he says, "I know. But I mean it."

Meanwhile at the hotel, Priya is putting the final flourishes on Kala's henna design, carefully scrutinizing the overall appearance and adding details here and there. Ina, meanwhile, has had another helping of brandy and is practicing Kala's makeup for the next day.

"Are you sure you want red lipstick?" murmurs Ina as she smudges some charcoal-colored liner along Kala's lashes.

"Yes," says Kala patiently. "My dress has some red on it."

"Isn't it traditional to be married in white?" asks Ina.

Kala nods, but Ina holds her head to stop the movement.

"Don't move, silly child," she says.

Kala smiles in amusement. She would roll her eyes if makeup wasn't currently be applied to them. "I wanted to blend his traditions with my traditions."

"The dress is gorgeous," Daya assures them, wandering onto the balcony while she helps Sai latch onto a pacifier. "She went me a picture, mmph. Gorgeous. Though rather revealing."

"Daya," sighs Kala.

Ina chuckles as she applies some tawny, shimmering eyeshadow to the brush in her hand. "You wouldn't assume your sister would be modest, now would you?"

Kala grumbles, cheeks hot, choosing not to say anything in response considering Ina has a sharp object in her hand.

Ina continues to chuckle as she applies the eyeshadow. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding...although, I don't imagine you're curious any longer what happens on a girl's wedding night..."

Kala turns steadily darker. "Auntie..."

"Ooh, she's right," teases Daya, sitting nearby and bouncing Sai. "Of course, I imagine he doesn't disappoint you, he's a very nice-looking man..."

Kala huffs. "We are not talking about this."

"Why not?" asks Ina as she uncaps some red lipstick. "Your sister is right."

"Auntie, no..." pleads Kala.

Daya smirks. "Was it his face that attracted you, or those nice arms? Ooh, or those eyes? So dreamy!"

Kala shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "Mom, make them stop."

Priya smiles measuredly and continues to apply henna. "I can't make them do anything they don't wish to do."

Kala tuts and the other women chuckle darkly. After another moment, Priya sets her henna aside and smiles, satisfied. Ina steps away from Kala after applying a rich layer of red lipstick. They both smile, eyes crinkling.

"You are so beautiful," Ina says fondly.

Kala's cheeks grow warm again and she fans herself. "Oh, don't--"

"You are," says Priya firmly, adding with a smile, "I like the lipstick. It's very pretty with your eyes."

Kala smiles too, nodding. "Thank you."

"And," says Ina brightly, "it is a special brand, so it doesn't smear on anything! Which is helpful since I'm sure you'll be kissing him all night--"

"Auntie!" whines Kala.

Ina smirks and shrugs dramatically. "You know I'm right."

Priya and Daya both laugh and shake their heads. Then Sanyam looks out on the balcony, about to speak, but he stops at the sight of Kala. His expression relaxes and he smiles widely.

"There is my daughter," he says.

Kala grins, glancing down and back up, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

Sanyam breathes out and shakes his head. "You are even more stunning than last time, and do you know why?"

Kala's brows twitch with affection. "Because this time I'm happy?"

Sanyam nods. "Because this time, you are happy."

Kala nods in response, suddenly solemn. Then she sniffles and touches her fingertips to her cheek to collect the tears gathering there.

"No, no," sighs Ina, rubbing her hands up and down Kala's arms. "I just did your makeup!"

Kala laughs at herself and sniffles again. Sanyam smiles kindly at her and extends a hand.

"I have something for you in the kitchen," he says.

She excuses herself from her mother, aunt, and sister, and follows Sanyam into the hotel room, then to the kitchenette, where he has a plate of shahi tukdra. She puts a hand over her heart and groans happily, but he holds up a hand signaling that she should wait.

She leans against the counter, brow perked in interest, and watches as he takes an envelope off of the table nearby. He hands it to her and smiles, then waits. She opens it cautiously, finding a simple red and gold card; when she opens this, she finds an old polaroid of herself, about six years old, clutching her new Anna doll, eyes filled with the most sincere joy as she smiles for the camera.

"Oh, dad," mumbles Kala, crying again. She sniffles hard. "Where on earth did you find this?"

Sanyam smiles. "I dug through our entire spare bedroom to find this. I wanted you to have it."

Kala nods, and then she notices that Sanyam has written a short letter on the inside of the card. She glances at him, and then begins to read.

_My daughter,_

_You have the most gentle heart of anyone I have known. In everything you do, you first ask if your actions will help or harm, and you have put yourself last throughout your life to avoid causing pain. This has made you a light in everyone's life, but I believe you often carry the pain that you prevent others from experiencing._

_Although I am proud of many things that you have accomplished over the years, I am the proudest that you found the courage to choose a life you love over a life you merely tolerated. I know for you that this was nearly impossible and that the idea of hurting us was unbearable to you. Kala, you have not hurt us, but taught us all to connect to our true selves and our true passions. You are in no way a disappointment, but an inspiration._

_I revisited a volume of poetry that my grandmother gave me to find a quote that expresses what it means to find someone you truly love. I hope you agree with the one I chose:_

_"If there is a paradise on earth,_   
_It is this, it is this, it is this."_

_Love always._

_Your Father_

Kala pulls her hand slowly away from her mouth, tears streaming down her face. She swallows, chest aching with gratitude and affection. She sets the letter aside and dries her face as best she can, shaking her head.

"I...I don't have the words," she murmurs.

Sanyam smiles and quickly dabs at one of his own eyes.

She sobs and laughs at once. "Thank you."

He pulls her into a hug and she grins. When she steps away, she squeezes his arms and meets his eyes.

"You barely know Wolfgang," she whispers. "Why...why do you trust him?"

Sanyam smiles, eyes shining, and shrugs. "I see how you look at him. I have never seen you smile at anyone the way you smile at him, Kala."

Kala laughs again, more softly, blushing. She nods and looks down. "I think this is true."

She looks at him again, brows soft, eyes heavy with devotion and respect. She shakes her head one last time.

"I could not have dreamed of a better father," she says sincerely.

Sanyam smiles and nods. "Thank you."

She grins and tucks the polaroid carefully into the card, then closes it and puts it back into the envelope. She gestures at her messy makeup and explains she's going to go clean up. He nods.

She's just gone into the bathroom when there is a knock at the door -- Wolfgang arriving to pick her up and walk with her back to their own hotel. Sanyam greets him and he smiles.

"Kala will be out in a moment, she's had an emotional night," explains Sanyam.

"Did Daya say something callous again?" asks Wolfgang as he sets his keys aside on the counter.

Sanyam sighs and chuckles. "Luckily, no."

Then he waves his fingers at Wolfgang, asking him to come into the kitchenette. Wolfgang's brow wrinkles slightly, but he follows Sanyam, who takes a Kingfisher beer out of the freezer and opens it. He splits it between two glasses and hands one to Wolfgang.

Wolfgang smiles cautiously and closes his fingers around the frosty glass.

"I married Priya when I was twenty-five, and before we were married, my father pulled me aside and gave me something. Now, I was waiting to give this to a son, but..." He chuckles. "Clearly, that was not meant to be. So I would like to give this to you, considering your own father never seemed to show you any kindness."

Wolfgang watches him, pulse ticking hard. Then Sanyam takes his watch off -- a simple but valuable silver watch with black hands on the face. Wolfgang inhales in surprise and quickly takes off his own watch, so that Sanyam can fasten the new one on for him.

He looks down at it, at a loss for words, just as Kala returns. She stares at them both for a moment before silently covering her mouth and crying again. Wolfgang lets out a short, breathy laugh, then grins and shakes his head.

"Thank you," he says sincerely, meeting Sanyam's eyes.

Sanyam smiles. "Of course."

Then he raises his glass and clinks it on Wolfgang's, and they both drink.

"It is fairly old, it may not work by the time you have someone to pass it on to."

Wolfgang nods, smiling, and then he says quietly, "You barely know me, why would you...?"

"Because I know how you treat my daughter," explains Sanyam. "You're family now."

Wolfgang looks at him for a moment, trying to find the words, coming up short. Kala crosses the room and puts a gentle hand on his arm, sniffling, and he meets her gaze. Her lips form a tiny, overwhelmed smile when she notices how moved he is.

"I think you deserve this family after everything," she says softly.

Sanyam hums in thought and takes a drink of beer. "Well, I think he deserves this regardless. We shouldn't have to earn a good family. We all deserve one from the moment we're born."

Kala glances at her father with dark, startled eyes. Then she nods hard.

"You're right," she says fiercely. "That's absolutely true."

Wolfgang breathes out and looks down again, chest tight. He nods slowly.

"Thank you," he says once more.

Sanyam smiles. Priya, Ina, and Daya come in from the porch, carrying their dishes and the box of henna and makeup. They come over to say goodbye to Kala and Wolfgang, and Sanyam packs up the shahi tukdra for them. Then Kala puts her bag over her shoulder, hugs her father, and leaves with Wolfgang.

They take hands and walk down the hallway for a moment, and when they reach the elevators, Wolfgang stops and shakes his head, looking at Sanyam's old watch on his wrist.

"I don't understand," he mumbles.

"They like you," says Kala warmly. "You should have seen the letter my father wrote me, oh...Wolfgang, they do understand, my mother and my aunt finally understand, we're...we're going to be okay."

He nods, turning to take both of her hands. Then he smiles at the sight of her and shakes his head slightly.

"You're beautiful," he says quietly.

She smiles, glancing down -- he's the only man she'll accept this compliment from, because he's never reduced her to her appearance alone.

"I'm not wearing makeup and I just cried for fifteen minutes," she replies.

"And you're beautiful," he says with a shrug.

She grins. He thumbs over the burgundy markings on her forearms and sweat springs on her skin as his fingers brush the sensitive inside of her wrist; she exhales slowly and steps slightly closer to him.

"What are you thinking?" she murmurs.

He shakes his head. "I'm not thinking, I'm happy."

She laughs tearfully and nods. "Yes. Me too."

The elevator doors open and they step inside, still watching each other, in a world alone. They spend the next twenty minutes walking to their hotel, which is along the same avenue at this one, and they go into their room intending to sleep -- but they find the entire Cluster, plus Hernando, Felix, Dani, and Amanita.

Wolfgang narrows his eyes. Felix holds up a lockpick. Wolfgang groans.

"That's what you get for picking a hotel without keycards," says Felix with a shrug, pocketing the lockpick.

"We will not be here long," Lito assures them, stepping forward with two glasses of champagne. "But we all have something to say to you."

"Yes," agrees Capheus. "This was my idea, I convinced them all to come here, and we know you want to get some sleep, but we had to do this."

The others all nod in agreement, forming a rough circle in the room around the sofa, where Riley encourages Kala and Wolfgang to sit. They glance at each other in apprehension, then sip their champagne. Capheus claps his hands together exuberantly and grins.

"So, we have all chosen something about each of you, and about you as a couple, to say to you tonight before your wedding," he explains. "I'll start. Kala, I love your heart, your compassion -- you truly care for those with less than you and you are determined to make it right." He grins again. "I am sure you'll change the world." Then he looks at Wolfgang. "Wolfgang, your confidence is unmatched. You don't believe something is impossible just because others do. As a couple, you believe in each other.  
He pauses to shake his head and smile. "And you represent the purest love."

Kala and Wolfgang look at each other, speechless. A heavy tear forms under one of Kala's eyes and Wolfgang brushes it away with a faint smile. She sniffles and they both look up as Riley steps forward.

"Kala," she says quietly, "you are truly kind, even to those who have wronged you. Your selflessness is enviable. Wolfgang, you believe that it is best to fix what can be fixed instead of dwell." Her voice grows slightly thicker. "You've helped me more than you know. Together, you represent a new life for all of us. We love you."

Nomi smiles at them both and steps closer for her turn to speak. "Kala, you accept everyone with love even when you don't understand them. You are as forgiving as you are fierce and you are truly my sister." She sniffles and adjusts her foggy glasses. "Wolfgang, your genuine belief in found family inspires me. If I had your perspective when I was younger, I would have met and married the love of my life sooner." She and Amanita share an affectionate glance before she continues. "Together, you represent honesty. You could have hidden your flaws but you didn't -- you accepted each other and you accepted that the world wanted you to be together."

Kala and Wolfgang meet eyes again, and Kala slowly shakes her head, crying again. He smiles at this, then puts an arm around her; she nestles into him and sobs softly, then addresses the others.

"I'm sorry," she says breathily. "I'm sorry, I can't stop crying today..."

The others reassure her with smiles and quick words of comfort. Lito, also crying openly, nods sympathetically, puts a hand over his mouth, and lets out a small, congested squeak. Hernando pats his back and shakes his head.

Sun rolls her eyes affectionately at this, then steps forward and smiles at Kala and Wolfgang.

"Kala, you are the first to comfort us and encourage us," she says. "We always feel safe around you, always loved. Wolfgang, you are the best fighter I have ever met. You fight with your heart instead of your head. Together, you represent balance, which life relies on."

Kala nods tearfully and Wolfgang pulls her closer. Then Will takes a step forward, grinning lightly.

"Kala," he says, "you ground us, you remind us what matters when we lose sight. We would never have survived without you. Wolfgang, you're stronger than you realize and we've all relied on you more than you know." He pauses and exhales. "Together, you're an affirmation that nothing is lost until it is truly lost."

They both nod at this and Kala dabs her eyes quickly. Then Lito, wiping his face free of tears and sniffling loudly, addresses her and Wolfgang.

He shakes his head in amazement and looks at them for a moment before speaking. When he does, his tone is deep and gravelly, betraying the intensity of his emotions.

"Kala, you understand what it is like to be underestimated," he says quietly. "You found the courage, against the odds, to pursue a life with someone who does not underestimate you." His voice grows slightly higher but he controls himself after taking a deep breath. "Wolfgang, you fight for who is the weakest. You risk everything for your family, this family. As my Hernando has said, love demands sacrifice. The sacrifices you have both made to be together are more than most people would be willing to endure. Together, you remind us that _el amor todo lo puede.*_ "

Kala beams at Lito, tears streaming down her face, and then begins to laugh at herself for how overwhelmed she is. Wolfgang glances down, grinning, shaking his head gratefully. Then they look at each other, laugh together, and kiss exuberantly.

The rest of the Cluster whoops at them and claps their hands, and then Kala hurries to her feet to hug Lito and the rest. Wolfgang follows suit and the others gather around them, patting their shoulders, shaking them affectionately, pressing kisses to their foreheads and cheeks.

Kala comes away from this with a flushed complexion, still crying, and she seeks Wolfgang's eyes as the group disperses around them. He smiles gently at her and takes her hand, and then they look at the rest.

"Thank you," murmurs Kala. "Thank you so much for this."

Capheus grins. "Everything is always so hectic, we all live apart and visiting can't compete with telling you how we feel in person."

Sun nods in agreement, smiling more openly than she typically does, and Riley shakes her head, grinning blindingly.

Then Nomi shouts, "You're getting married!"

Everyone cheers loudly, jostling the two of them again until they laugh and shake their heads. Then the Cluster and the others all take their belongings and give Kala and Wolfgang each a final hug; they leave the room, calling congratulations and well wishes, and finally the door clicks shut, leaving Kala and Wolfgang alone together.

Wolfgang pulls Kala close and her eyes sparkle with happy tears. She presses her lips against his, but she pulls away immediately, grinning too fiercely to share a proper kiss. He chuckles and squeezes her waist, then shakes his head in disbelief.

"My heart has never been so full," she says sincerely.

He nods and kisses her quickly.

"I love them so much," she goes on, adding in a whisper, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he says with another quick kiss.

She laughs and stretches to return the kiss for a moment, softening in his arms, and then he lifts her off her feet, hugging her tightly, tucking his face into her neck while he turns in a slow circle. She laughs loudly, arms around his neck, and then he steps to the bed and they both fall onto it, landing in a messy pile together.

Kala shakes her head, hovering over him, debating whether to kiss him passionately, laugh, or do both. He watches her for a while, and then he smiles and puts his arms around her.

"Been waiting my whole life for you," he tells her softly.

Her body relaxes and she presses her lips together, trying not to cry again. She nods earnestly and touches her fingertips to his lips.

"I have too," she murmurs.

He nods and kisses her gingerly, and then they lay side by side, staring at each other as the light fades in the city, as soft guitar echoes from the cafe on the street below. She reaches out to gently stroke his face, and then he mirrors her, and they stay suspended in each other's touch, gazes locked, until the sky fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *el amor todo lo puede: literally, "love can do it all" but it is generally taken to mean "love conquers all."
> 
> The Kalagang wedding is next!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! It's a long one, so it may take a couple of weeks before it's fully edited and uploaded ;)


	39. June 8, 1:37 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang get married.

Kala slides her legs out of the car as her father opens the door, her heels clicking on the gravel of the drive leading to the botanical gardens. She takes her father’s hand and he helps her up. They share a gentle smile, and then the intensity of her happiness overwhelms her and she lets out a quiet peal of laughter. Sanyam chuckles too, quickly dabbing his eyes, and she takes his arms to steady herself.

“No, no, you can’t cry,” she says. “I’ll cry if you cry and I’ve done enough crying.”

He nods solemnly, sniffling, and she smiles at him. He waits for her cue, and after taking a steadying breath, she takes the first step towards Les Bagatelle -- Wolfgang is waiting for her in the gardens behind the small neoclassical château, and she’s unsure if the ferocity of her heartbeat is from her own nerves or his.

She looks at her father for support and he smiles assuredly at her. She nods, continuing to walk, careful not to trip on her dress.

The morning dawned bright and cool, and she and Wolfgang stayed in bed a few hours too long, indulging in the certainty they felt, laughing about waking up in bed together on their wedding day. The rest of the afternoon was a commotion. Felix dragged Wolfgang away to get dressed, and Daya did the same to Kala. The urge to visit each other was acute, but they wanted to preserve the purity of seeing each other at the altar, so they resisted.

Now, as she walks along the side of the château, she is so impatient to see him that her fingers twitch in anticipation at the thought. She breathes out and murmurs “oh my” and gently fans herself. Her father chuckles at this, and she does too. She tips her head back in the sunshine and smiles. Then -- beyond the pond in front of her -- she sees the guests, the floral arch with magnolias, and distantly, Wolfgang.

_She swallows hard to hold off her tears, and suddenly recalls the night in her bedroom when they sang together, when the experience of visiting him was still new and untested, when she was unsure if he was an apparition._

_She looks at him in astonishment, grinning as she circles him, singing unabashedly loud. He watches her with an amused expression, also singing, and she throws her arms wide, laughing through the lyrics. For the first time since she started seeing strangers inexplicably materialize, she feels calm, happy. She knows she should look at this strange man with alarm, even fear; but those emotions are unreachable entirely as they sing together. She steps slightly closer, too curious to resist, longing to touch him. His eyes widen slightly at her proximity to him, and then he gently tilts his head, his mouth close to hers._

She carefully draws her fingertips along her eyes and her father rubs her back. She sniffles, surprised by the memory. She’s heard it said that in moments of intense danger, memories will flash before a person’s eyes, but that has never been her experience. In the moments when she was sure she would die, or Wolfgang would, her mind had no room for memories. In those moments, she could only grieve, gripped by the idea that the long life they deserved together was taken from them.

Now, however, she’s safe and sure of their future, and she can reflect.

She lifts up a pair of light blue boxers and her eyes widen like floodgates. She drops the presumptuous, invading pair of underwear as if they burned her.

_“Hello, again,” says Wolfgang._

_Kala slowly turns, dreading what she’ll see. The handsome German man who had the audacity to interrupt her wedding -- naked -- is in her bed, and it appears, once again, that he is naked._

_“No,” she whispers. “No, no, no, no, no. You have already ruined my life!”_

_He looks at her indignantly. “I haven’t ruined anything. You didn’t want to marry that guy.”_

_“That is not for you to say,” she snips._

_“Maybe not, but you wanted me to say it,” he says undeterred._

_The nerve! “You don’t know what I want.”_

_He smirks, enjoying this exchange, clearly approaching it as a game -- a game which she will not let him win._

_“Don’t I?” he asks wickedly._

_Kala’s unsure if she wants to slap him or kiss him. She begins to walk around her room, calculating. “Okay, I don't know what is going on here, if if I am totally losing my mind, or if one of the gods or goddesses is angry with me and has sent a demon.” She turns a glare on him. “A dangerous pervert demon who never seems to have any clothes on.”_

_“Germans are not so uptight about nudity,” he tells her._

_“This is not about nudity, okay? This is about decency! It is about privacy!”_

  
_He meets her eyes. “If you were so concerned with privacy and decency, why did you look?”_

_She silently curses his intelligence._

_“I did not,” she says flatly, even as her mind drifts to the memory of his...appendage? She refuses to think of the word penis. She’s sure thinking of that word will put a curse on her._

_“Yes, you did,” he laughs. “You looked then and you're looking now.”_

_She trembles and scolds herself in her mind for her improper behavior. Then she looks at him, lips pursed, and turns her irritation away from herself and onto him. It isn’t her fault that he has an unusually compelling physique._

_“I am not,” she breathes._

_She senses a flicker of annoyance. “Listen, I don't know what's happening to us either, but I do know that from the moment I first saw you, I wanted you.”_

_She isn’t sure his use of “want” in this context is particularly innocent._

_“And somehow,” he goes on, patting the bed. “I feel that you want me, too.”_

_The truth of this statement frightens her, and now she’s sure -- he does know what she wants, and she can’t hide from him if he’s in her head. If this continues the rest of her life, she’s sure she’ll go mad._

  
_“Oh, my God,” she says as she steps back. “You are a demon…”_

In Paris, as she walks along the gardens, Kala chuckles to herself and sniffles. Her mind continues to take her back in time.

_The smell of marigold and jasmine, an overwrought internal dialogue on the pros and cons of kissing this intrusive and inexorable man. On one hand, doing so would be a transgression she didn’t think herself capable of. On the other, the words they spoke to each other on this rooftop convinced her that this man, be it as it may be, completes her. She knows with inexplicable certainty that she’ll never escape the connection they have, and more, that she doesn’t want to escape._

_The force between them threatens to make the decision for her. She feels herself imperatively drawn to him and she can do nothing to resist. She looks into his eyes as the distance shrinks between them, and then he vanishes without explanation._

She blinks in the harsh sunlight and looks around, desolate.

The memories come in short bursts now, fragments and broken images.

_I understand how I feel about you. And somehow, I know that you feel the same way about me..._

_An urgent calculation, the lives of everyone in this mansion or Wolfgang’s life? It’s an easy choice. She reaches under the sink for supplies._

_Positano, the clear water forming a conduit between her and Wolfgang; she stretches her hands in front of her as she swims, heavy, weighed by his consumption of vodka; she promises herself she’ll fix things, frightened for him._

_Because you deserve to be happy…_

_Mingled breath in the blue light, a gentle grin, a quiet laugh. Wolfgang tucks her hair behind her ear and thumbs over her lips. She stares at him, stunned, exhausted. Then he smiles softly and she smiles back; she touches her nose to his and presses a lingering kiss to his mouth, sinking in the heat of their bodies, in love._

_What matters to me is this. Us. Right now._

Under the June sun, Kala takes the last step towards the gardens. She wipes her eyes as she enters a small tent, in which the wedding participants are waiting -- the women of her Cluster, Daya, Dani, Amanita, and Zakia, all wearing scarlet gowns and holding large white bouquets.

Kala looks at them all, eyes full of warmth, and they grin hugely at her. She slips into a final memory as she takes in the image.

_Chilly skin under her touch, his weight slumped on her in the back of a stolen van. He’s unconscious, badly injured, but her fear has been replaced with relief. She hugs him closer, sobbing because he’s truly in her arms, touching him everywhere to reassure herself that he’s whole. “I have you now. You’re safe.”_

She’s startled back to reality by the first chords of the processional song. She wipes her eyes a final time, and Riley hastily helps her put on her veil. Then she reaches for her father’s arm and they smile at one another.

Meanwhile at the altar, Wolfgang exhales slowly, one hand wrapped around his opposite forearm, clenching it.

“Chill out, man, you’ve teased her way too much about fainting at her own wedding for you to do the same,” says Felix in a hushed tone.

Will chuckles appreciatively at this behind them. Lito blows his nose into his handkerchief, already crying profusely.

Wolfgang briefly closes his eyes, then nods. He’s been preparing for this day for half a year. He and Kala have spoken about it daily for months. But as he stands under the fragrant arch, as the first chords of  _[Hymnos](https://open.spotify.com/track/3HWC6QSjagX5s93Ecq01pA?si=KWXlkIbBRn-7MnS6zWQgEw)_ play, he struggles to believe that it’s all true -- that he met Kala, that she loves him, that she’s going to be his wife. The reality that he gets to love her the rest of his life hits him with such intensity that he can barely draw breath.

He shakes his head, stunned, and the bridesmaids begin to walk down the aisle one by one. They all beam at family members in the audience, then at the men they love on-stage, except for Nomi and Amanita, who latch arms at the end of the aisle and grin fiercely at one another. The women gather alongside the arch, waiting. Then the music, provided by Gunnar’s quartet on the side of the garden, begins to play a traditional processional song.

Kala, holding her father’s arm, appears at the end of the aisle, and suddenly, Wolfgang can see no one else. He’s deaf to the music and the excited murmurs. There is only Kala.

He stares at her as she smiles through the sheer fabric of her veil. The image of her in her wedding gown stops his breath. He’s sure he’s never seen her look this stunning, or this unconditionally joyful, and by the time she joins him at the arch, he has to swallow and touch his fingers quickly to each eye.

Her shoulders soften at the sight of this and her tears trickle down her cheeks. They take hands and she smiles brilliantly at him; he holds her gaze with a softer smile, eyes still bright, and quietly clears his throat.

Then the officiant joins them, opens her script, and begins to speak.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Kala Dandekar and Wolfgang Bogdanow in matrimony. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

There is a pause, during which the Cluster looks at the audience, communicating that anyone who speaks will be dealt with swiftly and seriously. Silence greets them.

Kala reaches under her veil to wipe her tears away and Wolfgang squeezes her hands. They look at each other solemnly.

  
“I’ll begin,” says the officiant. “Marriage is an expression of faith in each other and in yourselves. It is an act of will and a sacred commitment.” She pauses and asks for the rings, which Felix hands her. Then she looks at Kala and says, “You may say the vows you have prepared.”

Kala swallows and nods, breath shallow. “Wolfgang, before I met you, the world was simpler. Light and dark; good and evil; selfless and selfish.” She pauses, tears threatening to spill, and gently touches his chest. “Meeting you changed this. Meeting you taught me to live in the space between, and I realized that love and empathy exist in this space and this space only. To truly love each other, as people and as husband and wife, it is our differences and not our similarities that make us strong.” She sniffles hard. “You have something good and beautiful hidden inside of you, just as I have something dark and wicked hidden inside of me. I still believe this. But when I first said it, I said it as though these were characteristics we could hide from each other. But Wolfgang, I have known that you are good and beautiful despite everything you have done from the moment I met you; what defines us isn’t what we must do, but what we choose to do. And you chose to love me though you didn’t believe I could love you; you chose to love me though you assumed I would never be with you. No love is as pure as this; no love is as good or as beautiful as this.” She pauses again, lifting her hand under her veil to dry her eyes. “Since the moment we met, we were not me and you. We were us.” She squeezes his hands hard. “And I will love you until the day I die.”

Wolfgang looks at her for a long time, and finally glances down, moved, and blinks with wet eyes. He nods and thumbs over her palms, and when he looks up, he sees she’s crying openly. Most of the Cluster is as well, and sniffles are heard throughout the crowd. Kala smiles through her tears and stares tenderly at him.

He clears his throat after another moment and says in a rough voice, “Before I met you, I believed that our lives were determined by inevitabilities, not impossibilities. There were few things I was sure of, but I was sure I would be alone for the rest of my life.” He pauses, takes a breath, and begins to smile. “I was wrong. You proved to me that things that seem impossible or miraculous are actually things that are inevitable. A life with you is something I always believed was impossible, and what I see now was inevitable, because we could never be with anyone but each other. Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.* You are the love of my life and I will love you until the day I die.”

Kala stares at him, stunned by his poetic words. Then she breathes out, weeping, and shakes her head to convey how touched she is. He breathes out too, relieved, and resists the urge to hug her tightly.

Riley passes the officiant a handkerchief to hand to Kala, who accepts it gratefully and laughs at herself as she dries her eyes.

Then the officiant looks at her and says, “Kala, repeat after me…”

Kala takes a breath and nods, repeating each word: “I, Kala, take you, Wolfgang, to be my husband..” She says the last word with a happy tremble in her voice, then pauses to wipe her eyes. “To have and to hold, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this, for all the days of my life.”

The officiant looks at Wolfgang and repeats this with him.

“I, Wolfgang, take you, Kala, to be my wife, to have and to hold, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, and to love and cherish you always.” He smiles solemnly and says, voice growing quiet, “I promise you this, for all the days of my life.”

Kala pats her handkerchief under each eye and smiles brilliantly, shaking her head. He grins gently and squeezes her hands, and then each of them takes a ring from the officiant, who nods at Kala.

She puts the ring on Wolfgang’s fourth finger, and he does the same with her. Then the officiant shuts her script.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

Wolfgang lifts Kala’s veil from her face and kisses her hard. The audience, bridesmaids, and groomsmen all erupt, hollering and clapping wildly. Kala throws her arms around Wolfgang’s neck, responding to the kiss with more intensity than her friends and family wish to witness, and Will and Felix whistle. She grins against Wolfgang’s lips as the kiss fades, and then she kisses him again. He lifts her off her feet and spins her for a long moment, and when he sets her down, they grin fiercely at each other, both succumbing to an ecstatic chuckle.

The audience is on their feet, still cheering, by the time they turn towards them. The quartet begins to play [_Crazy Little Thing Called Love_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/35ItUJlMtjOQW3SSiTCrrw?si=LCbF9obdQ6yxiuENetx_PA)as they walk away from the altar, gripping hands. They meet eyes and beam at each other as they walk through the applauding audience, showered with grains of rice, and come to the end of the garden.

Lito snaps several pictures of them during this and Riley makes the “perfect” hand gesture at him and winks.

At the end of the garden, Kala and Wolfgang turn towards one another, staying close, and meet eyes. Kala grins, euphoric, eyes still sparkling with tears, and he chuckles as he breathes out, at a loss for words.

“I love you,” she says indulgently as she steps closer, as she slides her hands up his chest. “I love you, I love you…”

He chuckles again, too ecstatic to simply smile, and mumbles, “I love you so much.”

“You’re my husband,” she says.

He grins. “You’re my wife.”

She shakes her head in astonishment, then softens as the light changes in his eyes.

“You look gorgeous,” he says sincerely.

She flushes. “Thank you. So do you.”

“No, Kala, you…” He trails off and finally says, without a trace of humor, “I thought my heart was going to stop. You’re stunning.”

She sniffles and nods. He kisses her and she smiles against his lips, and then they pull away, both flushed, and look around as their friends and family begins to gather.

Lito coaxes them towards a shady part of the gardens which features several magnolia trees in full bloom. He holds up his camera and Wolfgang tips his head down and lets out a tiny groan. Kala laughs and tugs him closer to her.

“Behave,” she murmurs. “It’s our wedding day. You’ll survive having your picture taken on our wedding day of all days.”

He raises his eyebrows playfully at her and smirks. Then he nods seriously and puts an arm around her waist. “Okay.”

“Be yourselves,” says Lito, flapping his hand at them as he lifts his camera to his eye.

Kala steps in front of Wolfgang and leans her back against him. He puts his arms around her, and she tilts her face towards his. He chuckles and kisses her. Lito snaps a few pictures, and then the kiss intensifies and he watches them for a moment, starting to cry. He shakes his head and beckons Hernando to come over.

“I can’t, I can’t, they’re too beautiful,” he says, wiping his eyes and handing the camera over.

Hernando shakes his head at Lito for a moment, then says, “Uh, you two? Excuse me? These are not something you would show your family or put on your desk at work.”

Wolfgang raises a slow middle finger and Kala puts her arms around his neck, continuing to kiss him passionately.

Hernando’s shoulders dip in defeat and he begins to laugh hard. Lito laughs and cries at the same time, and finally Nomi comes over.

“Alrighty,” she says brightly as she takes the camera. She adds in a shout at Kala and Wolfgang, “Hey, lovebirds!”

Kala pulls away and clears her throat. “Sorry.”

“I’m not,” says Wolfgang.

Kala begins to giggle and she elbows him. He grins and puts an arm around her waist, and then they both look expectantly at Lito, Hernando, and Nomi.

The trio persuades them to strike several poses, including one where Wolfgang holds Kala in his arms, bridal-style. Wolfgang glares repeatedly at them between takes, but as soon as he turns his gaze on Kala, he softens, smiles, and lets Nomi take pictures without complaint. They join the others after a few more minutes, waiting along the pastel gravel path for a car that will bear them to the reception hall.

But after a moment, a horse-drawn carriage pulls up on the path in place of a car. The horse snorts and stomps its feet, looking regal with gold reins and a shiny black mane.

Wolfgang frowns. “I was expecting a car.”

Kala laughs. “I was too.”

Then they look to their left and see Felix, who grins, steps closer, and hugs Wolfgang tightly. Wolfgang laughs and hugs him back.

“Congratulations!” says Felix in a hoarse whisper. “Fuck, man! I cried, that was beautiful.” Then he clears his throat and collects himself. “Anyway. The carriages were my idea. It’s fucking romantic.”

“Oh my God,” whispers Kala.

“You deserve to be king and queen for a day, yeah?” says Felix, adding with a wink as he walks away, “plus, cool place to conceive your first kid.”

Kala covers her face and repeats, “Oh my God.”

Wolfgang can’t hold back a rich laugh, shaking his head. Kala groans feebly and laughs as well, and then he helps her get into the carriage, which her dress takes up most of. He raises his eyebrows at this and she giggles and moves the glamourous train to make room for him.

He sits beside her, and then glances behind them at several other carriages that are arriving.

“He hired carriages for everyone?” asks Kala in disbelief.

“He has a thing for the Royals,” says Wolfgang, adding, “He makes a good point.”

Kala eyes him. “About…?”

“This being a cool place to--”

“I knew it!” she interrupts. “I knew you were going to say that!”

He chuckles in apology and takes both of her hands. She shakes her head and kisses him gently, and then the carriage pulls away.

They would have seen the ornate gardens and lustrous sculptures of the Parc de Bagatelle but as soon as they begin to kiss, their attention becomes hopelessly diverted. They pull away only to smile, stare, and whisper affirmations as the carriage whisks them on a tour of the gardens.

After twenty minutes, the carriage arrives at their reception hall -- a well-lit space with poplar wood floors, triple-paned windows, and a small stage for Gunnar’s quartet.

They enter the hall holding hands and see a large table, lavishly set with white and gold china. Kala looks at Wolfgang in excitement, and then they see their guests all enter from the side of the hall. Kala is about to step forward and greet them all, but she notices the Cluster linger near the stage, where Gunnar and his fellow musicians have begun to play a gentle melody.

She and Wolfgang exchange a glance, watching their Cluster-mates. Lito dries his eyes on his sleeve while Will rubs his arm; Nomi and Riley link arms and sniffle; Sun and Capheus exchange a soft glance. Then Gunnar begins to [play harpsichord in earnest](https://open.spotify.com/track/5XSU59wtE5CRCAEyHmmGy4?si=bLHEsXBDRh-eDNNGbGNUQA), and the Cluster clears their throats, preparing.

It’s clear from the first chorus that they’ve all rehearsed for this moment.

 _When the night has come_  
_And the land is dark_  
_And the moon is the only light we'll see_  
_No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid_  
_Just as long as you stand, stand by me_

Kala grips Wolfgang’s arm and presses her lips hard together, determined not to cry so soon. The guests all soften and nudge each other as they watch the Cluster sing, accepting glasses of champagne from servers who appear from either side of the hall.

The Cluster grins as the song picks up.

 _So darlin', darlin', stand by me, oh stand by me!_  
_Oh stand by me, stand by me!_

Wolfgang puts an arm around Kala and grins softly, shaking his head. Then he turns and nuzzles briefly into her hair, leaving a kiss above her ear.

 _If the sky that we look upon_  
_Should tumble and fall_  
_Or the mountains should crumble to the sea_  
_I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear_  
_Just as long as you stand, stand by me..._

Kala swallows the urge to cry and breathes in hard, meeting eyes with each of her Cluster-mates. Then she looks in surprise at her mother, who is approaching with two glasses of champagne. She hands one to her and Wolfgang, then smiles and quickly wipes her eyes.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” she says, adding to Wolfgang, “beautiful vows. And your friends here tonight clearly think the world of you both. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, mom,” murmurs Kala.

Wolfgang nods. “Thank you.”

Priya beams, rubs both of their arms, then returns to Sanyam and Daya. Kala and Wolfgang turn to each other and raise their glasses as the song fades.

He smiles and laughs at himself for the words he’s about to say. “To my wife.”

She covers her face, grinning hugely, and nods. “To my husband.”

They click glasses and both drink, and then the Cluster, now finished singing, approaches them and hugs them both.

“That was beautiful,” says Kala earnestly.

“It would have been better with you two,” jokes Riley. “You’re the two best singers in our Cluster.”

Kala laughs and shakes her head at the compliment, and then makes room for Felix to join them. He flings his arms around Wolfgang’s shoulders, champagne sloshing, and pats his arm hard.

“You’re married, fuck, Wolfie! Married!”

Wolfgang rolls his eyes and ruffles Felix’s hair, then pulls him close and kisses the side of his head.

“Fuck off,” Wolfgang says affectionately.

Felix rubs his back and laughs, then looks at Kala. He smiles and reaches to briefly squeeze her hand.

“Congratulations,” he tells her. “You get to spend your whole life with this guy. Hope you know what that means.”

Kala looks at Wolfgang and sets her chin on his shoulder. “It means I’m going to be very happy.”

Felix groans and laughs while the others  _aww_ audibly. Wolfgang smiles and kisses his wife quickly and she grins. Then they all take their places at the table in the center of the hall -- Wolfgang and Kala at the head of the table, with Felix at Wolfgang’s side and Daya at Kala’s.

Kala and Wolfgang smile quickly at each other, then kiss again. She grins, finishing her champagne, in a bubble of joyful certainty. He squeezes her knee under the table and leaves his hand there as the hors d'oeuvres are distributed. These include a lemon-lavender aperitif and fig and goat cheese tarts. Kala _oohs_ softly and nudges Wolfgang, who takes one off his plate and feeds it to her.

The others at the table chuckle at this, and the five-course meal commences -- hors d'oeuvres, duck with raspberry sauce, an arugula salad, and comte cheese with apricot slices, served with infinite champagne. Kala and Wolfgang eat quietly, often feeding each other, laughing. After two hours, they’re surprised by the ring of a spoon on a champagne flute, and they look to see Felix standing up, glass raised.

“Oh,” breathes Kala. “His speech.” She pauses and seeks Wolfgang’s eyes. “Are you as nervous as I am?”

Wolfgang looks straight ahead and shakes his head, bracing. Felix leans and grips the back of his chair, and Dani glances quickly at Kala to pre-apologize.

Felix breathes out hard. “I know how this speech goes. I get up, I tell you all an embarrassing story about Wolfie -- I have fucking plenty -- you all laugh, and I end on a sweet note, yeah? But I’m not going to do that.” He clears his throat. “This is one speech I never thought I’d make. I never thought Wolfie would get married and settle down. Hell, we laughed about it as kids, we thought the whole idea was fucking comical. But that’s not because we were dumb kids, okay? It’s because we were both used to losing whatever we got attached to, so we taught ourselves not to do that -- especially Wolfie. He lost his mom, he nearly lost me, and he thought he lost Kala. Let me tell you, it was the bravest thing this man has ever done to keep fighting for Kala after it seemed impossible they’d end up together. I know my brother, and the fact that he didn’t give up means he loves her more than anything else in the world.”

Kala and Wolfgang exchange a tender, surprised glance, and then look gratefully at Felix, who clears his throat again and sniffles hard. He puts a hand on Wolfgang’s shoulder and grips it.

“I know these speeches are supposed to longer, but I think I’ll stay true to Wolfgang’s tradition of not fucking talking, and just say this -- the second I saw these two together, I knew they’d be together their whole lives. So, let’s raise a glass to toast Kala and Wolfgang, Wir wünschen Euch eine glückliche Ehe!”

Everyone stands, raises their glasses, and drinks. Then Wolfgang hugs Felix tightly, kissing the side of his head, and Kala copies him a moment later, rubbing Felix’s back and sniffling.

“That was very sweet,” she murmurs as she pulls away.

He grins tearfully. “Thanks.”

Dani, still on her feet from the toast, reaches to take Felix’s hand and smiles approvingly at him, also tearful. Kala beams at this, then touches her napkin to her eyes, and sits down once more. She takes Wolfgang’s hand and they look assuredly at each other for a moment.

Then several servers arrive with the massive wedding cake -- a chocolate, cherry, and kirsch masterpiece with delicate gold-leaf detailing. Everyone gasps and nudges each other in anticipation.

Kala grins at Wolfgang and they both get up. Kala reaches for a huge knife that the servers brought, then bites her bottom lip and scrutinizes the cake. She twitches her fingers at Wolfgang, so he steps behind her, and they both hold the knife to make the first cut. Kala whines anxiously, eyes wide, as they cut into the gorgeous, unspoiled cake, and then the others cheer as she holds up a plate with the first slice.

She turns towards Wolfgang and murmurs, “Wolfgang Bogdanow if you shove any cake in my face I _will_ kill you.”

He smiles, gathers some frosting on his index finger, and gently touches her nose with it. She blinks, trying hopelessly not to smile, and then she does the same to him. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment before bursting out laughing, and then they kiss exuberantly and the rest of the group whoops at them and applauds.

Kala, still giggling, wipes her nose free of frosting and lets Wolfgang feed her a bite of cake. She does the same for him, and then they sit down to eat. Priya and Riley distribute slices to the rest of the guests and everyone eats, enjoying strong coffee that the servers brought with the cake.

Kala pours a third cup as she finishes her slice of cake, and Wolfgang murmurs, without looking at her, “Planning on being up late?”

Her eyes widen as she sips the coffee; her lips form a slow smile as she pulls the cup away and turns towards Wolfgang. She raises an eyebrow at him. He grins, unfazed, and leans to kiss the side of her mouth. She smirks gently, flushed, and tugs on his suspenders under the jacket of his tux. They kiss quickly, then pull away to finish their coffee, both cheeky.

After everyone clears their plates of cake, Kala directs them to follow her and Wolfgang into an adjacent hall, which is decorated luxuriously -- delicate paper lights in the shape of roses, gold branches overhead, wrapped in fairy lights, and thousands of magnolia flowers on trellises, lining each wall. Golden light streams inside from the gardens as the sun descends below the horizon, and Kala looks at Wolfgang with a forceful grin and takes his hand.

The others gather and look expectantly at Kala and Wolfgang. Kala takes a quick breath, raising her eyebrows at him, and he smiles softly. Then she nods at Gunnar’s quartet and they begin to play a slow cover of _[Come Away With Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/7gbzlFZZIEy7uWcBJu1Ru2?si=5lEAYfaXQNyL2UzL-Q_d_A)._

She looks again at Wolfgang, who takes one of her hands and her waist with surprising confidence. They begin to dance and she meets his eyes with a tiny smile, which transforms into a wide grin the moment he smiles back. She touches her nose to his, dancing close, and then closes her eyes, following his movements.

“Did you learn to dance just for this?” she murmurs.

“Of course,” he says.

“Lito?” she asks.

“Yes,” he agrees.

She laughs and softly shakes her head, then meets his eyes to communicate how touched she is. He squeezes her hand and her waist, and they continue to slowly swirl around the ballroom, gaze never straying from each other. Her chest grows heavy with affection as she studies his expression. She isn’t sure what expression of his she loves most -- it’s hard to choose between his assertive smirk, the gentle smile she sees every night before they sleep, the contemplative furrow she often sees when he wakes before her, when his hair is still mussed as he sits in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Tonight, the expression she loves most is the one he’s currently wearing: radiant but solemn. She sniffles, recalling their vows, and dances closer with him.

“Sometimes I can’t believe it,” she whispers.

“Every morning when I wake up and see you…” He shakes his head slightly. “I’m still surprised, Kala, I will be the rest of my life.”

Her expression folds slightly, threatening tears; she shakes her head too. “I love you too much. It’s more than I can express.”

He stares at her for a moment, then breaks the formal dance position to pull her close and kiss her while they slowly whirl. She smiles against his lips and tightens her arms around his neck, and he squeezes her waist and grins softly as he pulls away.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs against her lips.

She laughs and cries simultaneously. The song fades after another moment, and they grin at each other as the guests begin to dance as well. Kala sees Lito put aside a video camera and nudges Wolfgang, who’s sure future children will be subjected to repeated screenings of their first dance while their Uncle Lito blubbers in the background.

The song fades, and Gunnar’s quartet is replaced by a large stereo, which begins to play a [sultry, upbeat melody](https://open.spotify.com/track/044qU7kwVZaDwzWnRsmVVL?si=y9SJnnyYQECj8MrjHvCzYA). Gunnar and the others get up, seeking champagne, and begin to jive near Riley and Will. Wolfgang chuckles when he sees Riley distribute some tiny pills to the elderly men, and he nudges Kala, who rolls her eyes and laughs.

“I see some criminal activity is taking place at our wedding,” she says.

“It’s fitting,” he says with a small shrug.

She grins and nuzzles her nose against his as they dance. They’re quiet for a long time, watching each other, their Cluster, and their friends.

“I like dancing with you,” says Kala quietly after he spins her. “It’s very romantic.” She flushes and adds, “It reminds me of making love.”

He raises his eyebrows, a smirk starting at the corner of his mouth.

“It does,” says Kala. “It’s exactly like that.”

He starts to laugh and she blushes a dark tawny color.

“It’s very intimate,” she insists. “And if your hand gets much lower on my back then it will be truly similar.”

He nods and slides his hand over her ass. “Like this?”

Her eyes widen and she glances around for her family. He chuckles and removes his hand, then kisses her quickly.

“There are a few key differences between dancing and sex, actually,” he says quietly. “I can show you if you want…”

She shakes her head, laughing, and leans against him while they dance.

“How much longer do we have to be here?” he jokes.

She rests her head on his chest and laughs keenly. “Wolfgang…”

He chuckles to himself and nestles his face in her hair. Their laughter echoes together for another moment, and then they pull away to meet eyes and both grin playfully.

“I think I want some champagne now,” she whispers.

He nods and they walk together to a long table with hors d'oeuvres, chocolate fountains, and endless glasses of champagne. They each take a glass and drink, meeting eyes, and the song shifts to a solemn, orchestral ballad. Wolfgang watches Kala for a moment, taking in her exuberant eyes, and glances down to hide how widely he’s smiling. He’s never seen her look at him with this much giddy confidence and the expression wrings his heart.

He touches her waist gently while he drinks champagne, listening to the chorus of the song _. If you should ever leave me, though life would still go on believe me, the world could show nothing to me, so what good would living do me?_ His jaw tightens slightly and he pulls her closer, still simply watching; her expression has transformed to one of curiosity and affection.

He’s sure, if Kala hadn’t survived the war against BPO, that he wouldn’t have lived long afterward. By his own hand or otherwise, he’s sure he would have chosen not to go on. If she hadn’t chosen him, he would have gone on; he’s sure that as long as she was alive, as long as there was a sliver of hope, he would have gone on. But his life without her would be colorless and empty, with nothing to do but medicate himself with girls and vodka until he grew old.

“Wolfgang,” Kala murmurs. “Wolfgang, love, you have that look in your eyes…”

He blinks, remembering her, and looks at her. “What?”

“The look that means you’re thinking about something grim,” she says with a gentle smile.

“I -- I am, yeah, sorry.” He glances down and laughs at himself. “Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?” she asks quietly, taking his free hand and tangling her fingers with his.

He looks at her cautiously and shakes his head. “My life would be meaningless without you.”

Her brow creases and she touches her hand to his heart. He shrugs gently.

“It would,” he tells her earnestly. “I couldn’t have...loved and lost you and gone on after that.”

She swallows, stepping closer, eyes intense with devotion. She nods and sniffles.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she whispers, “that you ever felt you would lose me.”

“I’m sorry you thought you would lose me, too,” he replies softly.

They smile faintly at each other, and then he sets his glass aside and loops his arms around her waist. Her smile widens and she brushes her nose against his.

“I wouldn’t care,” he goes on, “if nothing exciting ever happens to me again, as long as I wake up next to you every morning.”

She breathes out and starts to cry. “Wolfgang…”

“I mean it,” he says, thumbing over her waist.

She nods slowly. “I know you do.” Then she laughs and sniffles. “You have to stop making me cry, you really do…”

He chuckles and gingerly wipes his fingers under her eyes. They smile at each other, and then look up at the arrival of Lito and Felix. Felix squints at them.

“Are you still crying?” he asks Kala.

“Wolfgang keeps saying lovely things to me,” she says, glancing at her husband fondly.

Lito chuckles happily and takes a flute of champagne from the table. “Isn’t this just like them?” he says to Felix. “Staying in their own little world?”

Wolfgang frowns. “It’s our wedding.”

“C’mon, come dance,” says Lito to Kala. “Dani’s putting on some Bollywood songs for you to show off your…” He grins and gyrates his hips. “Skills.”

“How drunk are you?” asks Wolfgang with a laugh.

“Oh, very,” says Lito.

Kala laughs and sips her champagne, leaning on Wolfgang, and glances up at him.

“Do you want to see my skills?”

He laughs. “Definitely.”

Across the hall, an [upbeat Hindi song](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ila6GeGBPGmJTGRoHOV5E?si=RhxFHLOzSFCzygJexdlGKg) begins to play.

Kala fights a huge smile at the familiar song, finishes her champagne, and laughs wildly as Lito pulls her into the center of the dance floor. She gives Wolfgang a helpless, wide-eyed look as she’s whisked away from him and he shakes his head and laughs. He watches as Daya joins Kala, along with Dani, Lito, Hernando-- the only guests who dance well enough not to make fools of themselves.

Kala adjusts her dress, lifting the skirt slightly, and then begins an effortless, detailed dance alongside Daya to the heavy drumbeat of the song. Lito, Dani, and Hernando attempt to follow along, all laughing at themselves, and Kala grins, dancing with such elegant confidence that Wolfgang finds it impossible to look away. He squints as she completes a particularly complex spin and he lets out a tiny, stunned huff.

He glances up at a voice next to him -- Sanyam, who’s smiling pleasantly.

“I see you didn’t know that my daughter could dance that well,” he says with a proud nod in Kala’s direction.

Wolfgang laughs and drinks his champagne. “No. Not like that.”

“We thought she could have made a career out of it,” admits Sanyam.

Wolfgang stares as Kala moves to the drumbeat -- her skin is flushed with sweat, her eyes are bright with mischief, and as she meets his eyes, she gives him a distinctly suggestive smirk. His eyes widen slightly and he clears his throat.

Sanyam chuckles, along with Felix, who pats Wolfgang’s back.

“She’s definitely a better dancer than you,” Felix informs him.

“No shit,” murmurs Wolfgang, and then he grins, opens his mouth to say something indecent, and remembers at the last second that his father-in-law is next to him. His eyes widen and he hastily shuts his mouth.

Felix catches this and snorts softly while he shakes his head. The song fades into the next -- [this one a softer tune](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ila6GeGBPGmJTGRoHOV5E?si=RhxFHLOzSFCzygJexdlGKg) \-- and Kala dashes up to Wolfgang and takes both of his hands.

“Your turn,” she says breathlessly, pulling him after her.

He looks over his shoulder at Felix as if asking for help, then at Kala, and murmurs, “Babe, I can’t dance like you--”

She smiles playfully and squeezes his hands. “It doesn’t matter. I just want you to dance with me.”

He nods. The music intensifies as they reach the center of the dance floor, and Kala grins and begins to dance with him, stomping her feet and swaying from side to side. Daya, Ina, and Priya sip champagne a few feet away and suppress giggles. Kala eyes them dangerously and they all plaster on neutral expressions, and then she puts her arms around Wolfgang’s neck and urges him closer.

“Move with the beat,” she whispers, and then she spins away from him and back into him, like a petal unfurling and refurling, and he shakes his head and grins.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs.

She beams and responds with a quick, hard kiss. They dance until the song changes, and are both left panting, leaning on each other and laughing. Kala rests her forehead on his as softer notes begin to play, catching her breath as they circle the floor.

They spend the next two hours slow-dancing, kissing often and meeting each other’s eyes. They don’t speak, both sinking in the music together, in the echo of the day’s events. By the time [the final song ](https://open.spotify.com/track/01Dc5vTMc9axpkvDUy0yiD?si=zZrnqvwxRw2dzRQGw4QmEg)begins to play, she has nestled her face into his chest, and he’s moved both hands to her waist. They’re swaying more than dancing, mesmerized, lost to each other.

Kala breathes in his scent, brows twitching, overwhelmed; he pulls her closer, more gentle than usual, and smiles into her hair. She smiles against him, sure she’s never felt closer to him than in this moment; she could stay here the rest of her life, floating.

It’s nearly midnight. The guests are sleepy, drunk, or both, and the energy in the room is soft and affirming. Kala lifts her face to meet Wolfgang’s eyes and he slides his hands along her spine. She smiles serenely at the sensation and cards her fingers through his hair.

“I want to be alone with you,” she tells him quietly.

He nods and kisses her. She hums at the feeling and pulls her hands down to squeeze his shoulders.

“Do you think we can sneak away?” she murmurs, tilting her head back and smiling indulgently.

He chuckles as the song fades, and then they step away from each other, hand in hand, and go quietly towards the door.

Kala clears her throat as they reach it, and calls softly, “We-- we um -- we’re going.”

Felix, Dani, and Will all hoot at them, while the others shout congratulations and gather around. They say goodbye to everyone, lingering on her family, and finally extract themselves from the crowd and hurry outside. They share a brief smile as they step up to a sleek black car and Wolfgang helps Kala (and her massive dress) inside. He gets in on the other side, and the Cluster, their friends, and her family crowd around as the car departs, all waving and taunting.

Kala grins, giggles, and covers her face as Felix shouts, “Get a good sleep -- as if!”

The car leaves the group behind, turning out of the gardens and into the 8th Arrondissement towards the Hôtel Plaza Athénée. Kala leans against the door of the car, her calves balanced on Wolfgang’s lap; he loosens his tie, leaning his head back on the seat, eyes closed, grinning softly. She grins too, laughing, and then she looks down at her dress.

“Promise me I don’t have to wear this much longer…”

He opens his eyes and glances at her. “I don’t know, I like it…”

“Wolfgang!” she laughs.

He smiles, eyes suddenly crisp with intention, and his mouth twitches into a smirk like a lock clicking into place. He slides his hand under her dress and gently snaps the elastic of the lace garter she’s wearing. Her eyes widen.

“Not much longer,” he says casually.

She exhales slowly and tongues over her bottom lip.

“Could...could you at least pretend to be shy sometimes?” she whispers.

“Are you?” he asks.

She glances down, flushing, pulling her lip into her mouth. “A bit? We’re married, it’s...supposed to feel different.”

He leans closer to her, one hand firmly around the outside of her thigh. He brushes his mouth against hers, keeping eye contact, and she shivers.

“I think it does,” he says.

“Me too,” she replies, chest rising and falling. “That doesn’t make you shy?” Then she breathes out. “No, nothing does--”

“No, it does,” he admits, going on more quietly, “I want you to remember what we do tonight.”

She swallows, heat springing under her skin. “I’m sure I will…”

He pauses, lingering on her expression, and then he kisses her earnestly and she moans into his mouth, fingertips twitching on the slick fabric of his tuxedo. They kiss until the car slows, heartbeats matched in intensity and pace; when they pull apart, they stay close, breath mingled for a moment, eyes blown. Kala touches her nose to his, then looks out the window the car, where she sees a cream-colored hotel, eight stories high, styled with red awnings.

Felix and Dani dropped off their things at the honeymoon suite earlier, so they wouldn’t spoil the surprise of seeing it for the first time on their wedding night.

Kala’s eyes glow at the sight of the hotel and she gasps softly, stunned by how elegant it is.

“My God,” she murmurs to Wolfgang.

He glances out of the window, then at her. “You’d look out of place anywhere else--”

“Wolfgang--”

“You look like a goddess--”

“ _Wolfgang_.”

He grins and kisses the side of her neck, and then the chauffeur opens the door for them and they get out. They walk slowly, Kala entranced by the sight before her, Wolfgang entranced by her, to the front door of the hotel.

The doorman glances at them, holding up a key. “Monsieur et Madame Bogdanow?”

Kala grins and accepts the key with a brief “merci” and adds softly to Wolfgang, “I may be keeping my last name but that nearly made my heart stop.”

He smiles and leans to kiss the side of her head as they slowly walk towards the elevators. Kala looks at the number on the key and presses the appropriate button, and they take both hands as the elevator whisks them into the Paris skyline. Kala notices Wolfgang check his watch and squints slightly at this, but says nothing.

They walk quietly down the hall when the elevator doors open to the door of a large suite. Kala unlocks the door and pushes it open, and then she looks at Wolfgang, whose lips pull at the edges, playful. He slides his arm under her knees and picks her up, then carries her over the threshold while she laughs, covering her face.

He carries her to the bedroom and sets her at the foot of the bed. She steps out of her heels, losing several inches, and she tilts her face up to look at him solemnly. Then she grins, turns to expose the back of her dress, and pulls her hair over one shoulder.

“Mm,” he says, looking at the tiny clasps that hold her dress together in place of a zipper.

She laughs knowingly. “It may take you a while…”

He chuckles, popping the first clasp open with a flick of his thumb; she tilts her head down as she waits for him to do this to each clasp, eyes slipping shut as she envisions the next hour together. He presses occasional kisses to her neck as he unclasps her dress and she grumbles happily each time, stretching her toes into the carpet. Finally, her dress falls away and she turns, only to reveal intricate bridal lingerie -- a white lace chemise, garters, and stockings. He stares at her for a moment, eyes blank, and then he clears his throat.

“Kala...”

Heat rises in her cheeks. “I...I thought you would like--”

He interrupts by kissing her, pulling her closer with his hands on her ass, squeezing hard. She groans feebly and softens against him, eyelids flickering when she notices how hard he is against her; he tongues over the inside of her lips and she feels her nipples stiffen under her lingerie.

“Wolfgang,” she mumbles as he pulls away.

He breathes in hard. “Fuck, Kala…” He swipes his thumbs over the underside of her breasts, then feels over her hips, keeping her close; he rests his forehead against hers, pausing, and then he forces himself to pull away and glance at his watch.

She looks at him curiously, breath unsteady. He smiles and guides her gently to the side of the bedroom, where there is a large window with a view of the Eiffel Tower. She blinks as he steps out of the room and he returns with a bottle of champagne. She smiles, still curious, and he pops the cork and takes two glasses off the table nearby. He pours them each some champagne and he clicks his glass against hers.

They each take a sip, and then he nudges her and nods in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. She follows his gaze, and after a moment, a scarlet firework explodes in the sky above the tower.

She gasps and leans against him, stunned, eyes wet and wide.

“How...how did you…”

He pulls his lips along her neck as he holds her.

She sniffles hard as another firework explodes. She nestles her head against him, staring out the window, and sips her champagne. They stay like this for several minutes, as dozens of fireworks -- red, white, and gold -- burst in the apricot skyglow of Paris. She moves her fingers under her eyes to wipe her tears away, and finally, the last firework fragments above them and all is quiet.

Kala seeks Wolfgang’s eyes, shoulders soft, lips pursed to prevent more tears.

“You -- you didn’t have to--”

He kisses her gently to cut her off. When he pulls away, he pulls a rough hand through her hair and looks into her eyes.

“When else would I do something like that?” he asks with a small smile. “I don’t plan on getting married again…”

She laughs and presses close. Then she bumps her nose against his.

“Make love to me.”

He kisses her as they back up to the bed together. She falls onto it underneath him, and he spoils her neck with kisses for a moment while she slides her knees together, giving herself to the feeling. He moves down, meeting her eyes quickly, then kisses each crest of her breasts between the lacy bustier. Her mouth twitches in a thrilled smile, and then he draws the lace down to expose her nipples. He takes each of them into his mouth in succession, flicking his tongue, and presses her breasts together with his hands as he does this. Her hips buck on instinct and she groans, pulse spiraling as she feels a graze of his teeth.

She puts a hand in his hair as he takes his time here, her brow wrinkled, her toes digging into the covers. He lifts up slightly and kisses her clavicle and her shoulders, then kisses her between her breasts, which are sensitive to the touch; the side of his hand brushes a nipple as he moves farther down and she moans.

He moves down her body, lips on silk and lace, eyebrows furrowed in concentration; he has a habit of smirking whenever he goes down on her, but tonight he’s solemn; tonight he wants her to come like she never has in her life.

He lifts the chemise up, exposing her tummy -- taut and covered in goosebumps -- and he brushes his mouth over her belly button and lower.

“Wolfgang…” she mumbles.

He meets her eyes as he kisses her hip bones, and then he mouths over her through her bodice, tongue pressing against the fabric where her clit is. She gasps, lifting up slightly, and he squeezes the inside of her thighs as he spreads her legs wider.

“Do you want me to make you come like this?” he asks.

She tips her head back, half off the bed. Then she nods. “Yes, but again, when you’re inside of me.”

He pauses for a moment, watching her lips form these words. “When?”

“When you’re inside of me,” she repeats without hesitation, lips twitching.

He feels his cock grow heavy and then he kisses her right thigh fiercely, tugging her closer. She grins, then moans as he thumbs hard over her through the lace of her bodice. He smirks, satisfied, and drags his index fingers under the elastic straps which keep her bodice connected to her stockings. He carefully unclasps these, feeling her thighs soften as he drags his hands up them.

Then he shakes his head as he encounters another clasp on the base of her bodice.

“I’ve never seen you look like this,” he murmurs, fingers working, “and part of me wants to stare at you all night, but…”

“But the other part of you would like me to be naked? And this lingerie is time-consuming?”

He laughs and nods. “Yes.”

She grins, then gets to her feet and begins to unroll the close-fitting lace from her figure. But he stops her hands, puts them to the side, and does this himself, gaze steady. He pulls the bodice down and away, leaving only stockings.

He turns her, presses her to sit on the bed, and she extends her leg for him to remove the stockings. He kisses her along her knees as he does this, and she opens her legs more widely, breathing hard, offering herself to him without hesitation. Then she laughs, seeing he’s fully dressed, and she rolls to a sitting position.

Her fingers find the first button of his shirt and she undoes it. They kiss, messy and deep, while she takes his jacket, shirt, and suspenders off. Then she feels his cock through his pants, groaning as her hand finds the shape of it, and she quickly unbuckles his pants. She pulls the pants down and looks at the tent in his boxers; then she slides her hands over his muscular ass, guides him closer, pulls the fabric away, and touches her lips to the head of his swollen cock.

Her eyes flash dark as she sinks her mouth over him, her lips forming a small smirk around him. She closes her eyes, indulging in the weight of his cock on her tongue and down her throat. She moans around him and he groans, head tilted back, sweat gathering on his throat.

“Kala…”

Her name sounds like a prayer when he’s turned on.

“ _Kala_ …”

She smiles as she pulls away, a string of saliva between his cock and her lips. Her eyes grow wide in question and he breathes out.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, head down.

“My turn,” she says in the softest voice, leaning back, legs open.

He chuckles, pauses as he meets her eyes, and then presses his mouth without hesitation to the lips of her pussy and moves his tongue between her folds for a long time. She cries out eventually when he lathes over her clit. She covers her mouth, but remembering they’re alone, removes her hand and moans openly, hips tilted, stunned by the sensation of his stubble.

“God, God,” she mumbles, one hand in his hair, one gripping the sheets. Her eyes roll back slightly under her lids and she trembles, suddenly eager to cry his name. “Wolfgang! Wolfgang…”

He slides his tongue over her clit, thick and hot, and she gasps a breath and throws both arms over her head. She moans again, rapturous, and pushes against him as she comes, throbbing against his lips. He pulls away, kissing her thighs and the inside of her knees. She flushes all over, a hand over her face, and laughs feebly.

“Oh…”

“Good?”

“Yes, yes…”

Then she slides two fingers on either side of her opening, spreading herself, and tips her head up in invitation. He meets her eyes, working his boxers off, and sets a knee in between her legs as he hovers over; then he guides himself into her, tilts his head down, and groans as their bodies meet. She opens her hips, legs around his waist, and several heady tears fall over her cheeks.

“Kala?” he murmurs.

She sniffles and shakes her head. “I’m going to cry, I can’t help it…”

He watches her for a moment, then nods and kisses her again, tasting the salt on her lips; he drives into her, their bodies perpendicular to the bed, and they kiss deeply. She breathes in at the depth of their shared joy, then grins against his lips as he moves in her.

She moans and follows his movement, hips matching his. Her orgasm builds after several minutes as he thrusts into her, careful that his cock brushes the sensitive spot inside of her each time. She puts her arms around him, sweat coursing down the back of her neck. He lifts her by the small of her back as he increases his pace, as her lips seek his, and she cries out.

“Wolfgang,” she mumbles. “Wolfgang, I -- I wanted to make love with you all night but…”

“I’m not going to last,” he assures her.

“Kiss me while I come,” she breathes.

He nods, rocking into her; after a brief moment, they come together, mouths stunned and open against one another’s; then he sinks onto her, out of breath.

A quiet moment follows, filled with blended breath. Then Kala grins, her nose tucked into Wolfgang’s neck. She rubs her hands slowly down his back and they stay like this, both breathing hard. Kala is reminded of their first time together, the way he rested on her, his lips on her collarbone; the way he smiled, overcome.

She feels over the ring on his fourth finger, and he shifts to hold her from behind, one hand on her hip. He kisses her behind her ear and pulls her close.

She looks at the Eiffel Tower for a moment, body still throbbing, and then she glances over her shoulder at Wolfgang.

His eyes are open, undoubting; he looks at her with immeasurable certainty and she lets her tears fall. She touches her fingertips to his lips and then he pulls her close, her body flush against his.

“I love you.”

They say it at the same time. He smiles faintly and she kisses him, and then they close their eyes together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same = a line from Wuthering Heights, my favorite


	40. June 9, 9:26 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang spend the first day of their honeymoon in Paris.

Wolfgang inhales softly and blinks in the sunlight streaming through the bay windows. He sits up slightly, then glances to his left at Kala, who has cocooned herself in all the blankets, leaving him chilly; she has a tiny smile on her face, as if she knows she hogged the covers but doesn’t care. She’s hugging them close to her with henna-ed forearms and her ring is glistening in the morning light.

He exhales, overwhelmed, and then hangs his head and grins. He knew long before this morning that he would wake up to her the rest of his life, but this knowledge hits him in a different way now. He could laugh at himself for feeling this way, for thinking that a few promises and an exchange of rings could change anything, but the fact that she’s his wife makes his chest swell.

He drags his knuckles lightly down her arm and her lips twitch.

“It’s early,” she murmurs, tucking her nose into the covers.

He chuckles and tugs on the sheets; she laughs too, eyes still closed, and half-heartedly tugs them back. Then she relents and snuggles against him, one leg hooked lightly around his middle, one hand in his hair.

She blinks at him a few times before kissing him and murmuring, “Good morning…”

He grins against her lips. “Morning.”

She laughs more, meeting his eyes. He thumbs over her lip for a moment, and then he raises his eyebrows.

“You stole the blankets,” he tells her.

She nods, gesturing at him. “I meant to. I wanted to wake up to a nice view…”

He squeezes her hip and shakes her gently. She laughs and kisses him hard, then melts and moans quietly as he tips her onto her back and hovers over her. They break apart with bright, exhilarated eyes, and both laugh again.

She touches her fingers to his lips. “Coffee first.”

He kisses her again, but then he nods and sits against the pillows. She sits up too, rearranging the covers, and then she picks up the phone to order coffee. She gets up to put on a silk robe, and a moment later, a waiter arrives with a tray bearing two tiny white cups of  _café_. She smiles, slightly flushed, hesitant to open the door to anyone -- she wants to see no one in the world but Wolfgang.

She tips the waiter, then grins at Wolfgang and sets the tray on the bedside table.

She hands one of the delicate cups to him, then smiles as she takes a sip. Her eyes widen, then narrow, and she grimaces slightly.

“Um...this is very strong,” she whispers.

He takes a cautious sip of his and starts to laugh. “Fuck. What is this?”

“Maybe café means espresso,” she muses, wrinkling her nose and taking another sip. Then she laughs too. “Why did we go to one of the only places where we don’t speak the language?”

“We like to make things harder than they need to be,” says Wolfgang with a slight smirk as he drinks more.

She rolls her eyes, then rests her head on his shoulder while she sips the espresso. She hums after a moment.

“This is how we spent our first morning in Paris last year,” she tells him quietly as she sets her cup aside.

He hums too, then laughs. “Yeah.”

She sets her chin on his shoulder and positively beams. “You’re laughing so much.”

He turns to look at her and slides a hand over her thigh. Then he wordlessly kisses the side of her mouth, finds her hand, and squeezes it. Her shoulders soften and she rests her nose on his.

“You flew from Iceland, which was very medically inadvisable, just to see me, despite the fact I was coming back right away.”

“Couldn’t wait,” he replies.

“Hm,” she murmurs affectionately, fingertips poised on his collarbone. Then she smiles and pulls them over his pecs indulgently, pausing on his ribs. “At least you don’t have a broken leg now.”

He chuckles. “No.”

She hums again, then lets her touch advance down his abs; she feels them tighten slightly in anticipation and she pulls back and meets his eyes. She breathes out on his mouth, her eyes heavy with an unspoken need.

He brushes his mouth on hers, then puts his cup on the table, takes her waist, and kisses her fiercely. She moans feebly into his mouth and puts her hands in his hair; he smiles at the way her fingertips tickle the back of his head, and then he moves his mouth to her neck, sucking gently under her ear; she arches her neck in approval and he unties her robe, pushing it to either side so his hands find her skin. She lifts slightly so he can toss the robe to the side, and then they sink in the pillows, bodies together.

Though Kala has never felt hesitant to him, this morning, her body relaxes more easily than before; her expression is more openly joyful, and he wonders if -- finally -- she isn’t contending with the tiny voice that tells her she should only be with him if she’s his wife. He flashes his eyes up to study her for a moment, tempted to ask; but he senses she would rather he made love to her seriously, without interruptions, so he moves down, licking a soft stripe up her throat. Her head falls back and she intones happily.

Sometimes when he’s with her, he’s consumed by the idea of pleasing her with every single gesture; sometimes his own desire to sleep with her fades, and he only wants to hear her dissolve into uncontrollable moans. The first time he slept with her was one of these times -- it was more solemn than most of the sex they had after that, and he feels that tone is appropriate for this morning. He smiles softly to himself, then shifts slightly, so he’s behind her, so he has access to the front of her body.

She inhales in anticipation, head soft on his shoulder, upturned to meet his eyes. He kisses her while he moves his hands down her sides, over her hips and her belly, up her ribs but below her breasts; he touches her arms, palms, each finger as the kiss intensifies, as heat springs under her skin. He notices her chest begin to rise and fall, anxious for even a small relief, so he slides one hand between her legs, touch light.

She moans into his mouth and widens her legs on instinct, but he draws his hand up again, moving both to her breasts; he squeezes them gently, then harder, the massages her nipples firmly between his thumbs and forefingers. She breaks the kiss to moan audibly and rest her head against his shoulder, mouth open in a happy grin. She nods as he continues this, and then he nudges her head with his nose so she watches.

She makes a soft, gutteral noise that goes right to his cock and he groans softly.

“I...I love when you touch me this long before you...really touch me,” she whispers as she watches.

He nods, kissing the back of her neck; he keeps one hand on one of her breasts, but moves the other down her body, in between her legs. He twitches his fingers against her folds, then slips two inside, wrist tilted so his thumb has access to her clit.

“You’re really wet,” he murmurs with slight surprise.

“I told you I love this,” she says, all breath.

Her pulse is already hard around his fingers and it’s difficult not to smirk in satisfaction; but he remains serious, lips finding the crown of her ear, teeth grazing it. She hums and presses her legs wide, hips tilted. He fingers her for a while, her hips sometimes jumping, wanting more; he pauses occasionally to squeeze the inside of her thighs and make her impatient; after a particularly long moment of this, she grumbles and lifts her hips, asking for contact.

He pinches the inside of her thigh with enough force that she grins and rubs her knees together. He pats her thigh so she opens her legs again, but doesn’t touch her; he slides out from behind her, letting her fall on the pillows so she’s almost on her back. He moves on top of her and she nods -- the nod that signifies  _yes, now, hurry_ , but he won’t give her that yet.

She tilts her chin up impatiently, eyes blown and sparkling, mouth slightly open. He kisses her and she puts her legs around his waist, but he coaxes them back down, moving lower on her body. Her muscles tighten as she braces for his tongue between her legs, but he spends a long moment on each breast, nipple, rib, and inner thigh. Her body begins to loosen, as if she’s unwilling to tense at his touch until she can’t help it, and he gives a tiny, gentle smile as he presses a kiss to the crease where her leg meets her torso.

She lets out a slow breath and puts her hand in his hair, guiding him. He looks up at her briefly before eating her, and her legs jump as his mouth makes contact. He listens as a low moan builds in her throat, and then drinks in a breathy gasp, almost a whine; her fingers tighten in his hair so he moves again to her thighs.

“Wolfgang,” she begs.

He bites her gently, then sucks on the spot. She groans, hair standing on end, and he smirks against her skin before pulling away, licking a heavy line between her folds and brushing her clit; his eyes are closed, but he shuts them harder at the needy moan this provokes; he groans quietly as he continues, and the vibration of his voice makes her breathe out all at once. She’s close, so he slips a finger inside of her while his tongue traces, laps, and flitters over her.

“Oh my God, oh my God…” She lifts up slightly, breath stopped. “ _Wolfgang_.”

He sucks for a moment on her clit and she gives a soft yell, then comes forcefully, fingers clenched in his hair; her head falls back helplessly and she gasps a breath. He lingers to feel her pound against his mouth, then pulls away after several kisses on her thighs and under her belly button. He looks at her. She’s flushed with sweat, the back of her hand covering her eyes, mouth open, serene, delirious; she looks stunned by every orgasm without fail, and he loves nothing more than this when it comes to having sex with her.

She finally breathes out, smiling wider, and then she presses her palm to her face and grins. He lifts up and meets her eyes solemnly; she responds with a heady kiss, body weak from the intensity of sensation.

Then she murmurs, deeply serious, “Let me, let me, I want to let you feel this…”

Suddenly the brightness of the morning is gone; the scent of coffee has faded, and there is only this, the two of them, balanced in each other’s gaze.

He nods slowly, relinquishing the control to her for a while, and she smiles as he turns on his back; she hovers over him, kissing him and grinning, still trembling. She pulls away, mouth still close, and murmurs, “It’s okay if you want to...to come while you’re inside my mouth, sometimes I like that, and I know you do…”

He nods mutely. His cock sprung helplessly at these words and now he’s beyond speech.

She flushes dark and tips her head down, then sinks lower on his body. She gives the smallest smile before taking his cock in her hand, twisting her wrist so her fingers slide and circle the base of it; she presses a pair of puffed lips to the head of his cock, intentionally slow, and her eyes find his. He smirks gently and puts his hand in her hair, guiding her down as she sinks her mouth over his length.

She moans happily, arching her shoulders for better access, hair falling around him. She gently massages his balls in her fingers while she blows him and he groans, already lost; she briefly lifts up to meet his eyes and sloppily lap over the head of his cock; her lips twitch when she sees how gone he is, and then she sinks over him again. She knows that he likes going down on her -- and that it turns him on -- but she’s surprised how close he already is.

She feels his pleasure build as her own and she moans gently around him, tilting her head to move deeper; his cock is heavy in her mouth and it twitches slightly; he slowly exhales, almost a grunt, and tightens his fingers in her hair as she takes him slowly in and out; she does this for another few minutes, moaning, feeling his body tense and push, until he finally mumbles, “Fuck” and tugs at her curls. She pulls up slightly as he comes, his fist tight in her hair, and she swallows before sitting up, mouth messy, cheeks flushed. She grins, head tilted down, and gently takes her palm along her lips to clean up.

“Fuck,” he says again, fingers sliding down her arm to grip her waist. “Oh, fuck, babe…”

She laughs quietly, falling on the bed next to him and hugging him from the side. She nuzzles her face into his neck and feels over pecs; he touches his thumb to her lip and tugs it, smirking, then uses his thumb to catch a lingering glisten of cum on the corner of her mouth. She looks down, face flushing deeper.

“I like how generous we are with each other,” she murmurs, quickly meeting his eyes.

He nods warmly.

“I…” She trails off and they shift slightly so they’re side-by-side, noses touching. She shakes her head. “I seem to forget how intensely you can make me come, because every time, I’m surprised by it…”

He breathes out, his hand sliding down her waist. “I like that about you.”

She grins. “I may be used to you, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be truly used to this.” She shakes her head again, continuing, “Wolfgang, oh my God, it’s…” She breathes in and meets his eyes. “It’s heavenly.”

He looks at her for a moment. “It’s heavenly?”

“Heavenly,” she says with a stubborn smile, adding, “It’s our honeymoon, I’m allowed to be sentimental.”

He continues to look at her, expressionless; then he grins, shakes his head, and kisses her.

She tilts her head, leaning back so he follows, urging him into a deeper kiss. He puts his hand between her legs to touch her while they kiss, slipping two fingers inside her and starting a steady rhythm. She mumbles enthusiastically and tilts her hips up as she strokes his length. Then she pulls away, grinning gently, eyes warm and full.

“I have an idea,” she murmurs.

He raises his brows to show he’s listening.

“Shower?” she suggests in a breathy whisper.

He smirks, then kisses her and nips her bottom lip. She laughs and kicks him softly under the covers, and then she hops up, trailing her hands behind so he takes them. She pulls him to the bathroom and turns on the faucet in the luxurious tub -- making a note in her mind about the depth of the tub and the possibility of taking a bath together -- and waits for a moment as the water heats.

She glances in the mirror -- Wolfgang is holding her from behind and pressing a series of kisses to her neck -- and the image jolts her. She tongues over her bottom lip at the idea of having sex right here, watching her own expression change as he moves inside of her, but she’s chilly and the shower is too tempting.

She shelves the idea for later, and then she laughs at herself, noticing her lips are still scarlet.

“My auntie was right, this lipstick is durable…”

“That’s how they should advertise it,” he mumbles against her neck. “You can blow a guy repeatedly without ruining it.”

“Wolfgang.”

He grins wickedly. She glances over her shoulder to meet his eyes, trying to remain aloof; but he squeezes her waist and kisses her behind her ear, so she softens before pulling him into the shower.

She tugs the curtain shut and puts her arms around his neck, looking into his eyes in anticipation, and he presses her lightly against the shower wall, hands sliding over her hips; his gaze grows solemn and his mouth twitches in an almost-imperceptible smile.

He kisses her and pulls away to say, “I love you.”

She replies with another kiss, then whispers, “I love you too.”

They slide their noses together, both smiling fiercely as the water courses over them. He kisses her again and she tilts her head as the kiss intensifies, tongues brushing, a hint of teeth and stubble; she moans quietly as he shifts his mouth to her neck, as he gathers her close in his arms and squeezes her ass. Then she smiles, head back, and puts a leg around his waist; her eyes shimmer as he looks at her and she lifts her chin, asking.

He glances between them and guides his cock into her; she exhales in relief, filled and exultant, and moans happily when he picks her up. She latches her other leg around his waist, nodding in approval, and he braces her against the wall before thrusting into her.

She groans. “Oh, like this, like this…”

They share a messy, passionate kiss, her nails digging into his shoulders, his hands on her ass to hold her up; she matches the motion of his body with her own, the water washing away the sweat on her brow, and after a moment she breaks the kiss to breathe out, almost a moan, almost an overwhelmed laugh.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmurs as he presses harder into her. “ _Oh_.”

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mumbles, moving one hand up to feel each of her breasts, sliding it higher to gently squeeze her throat and feel her pulse flutter on his palm.

“God, Wolfgang,” she whimpers, legs instinctively tightening as he pounds into her.

“Fuck,” he says again, hand on her ass once more to keep her close.

She puts her hands in his hair and they kiss again, more wildly, restraint abandoned. Kala shuts her eyes tightly as she pulls back, breath failing; her brows gather and she lets her head rest on the shower wall, chest uptilted, fingers tight in his soaking hair. She moans again, very softly, mouth open; her toes tingle so she clenches them, and the heat in her tummy spirals lower, intense and unrelenting; she begins to pound around him, suspended in time, mind consumed by pure pleasure. She lets out a stunned cry as she comes, body tight, convulsing slightly against him; her voice softens into a quiet, overwhelmed moan, and she swallows, indulging in the warm throb between her legs, drawing the sensation out as long as possible.

Finally, she breathes in the humid air, muscles spent, and seeks a gentle kiss. He hasn’t come yet, but he slips out of her, then coaxes her legs down so she’s standing on her own.

He meets her eyes as he slides his hands over her breasts and she looks at him curiously, her chest rising and falling.

“Turn around,” he says.

She inhales hard and shivers despite the hot water pouring over her. She turns, and he latches his arms around her from behind, exploring the front of her body with his hands, and then he thrusts into her again. She breathes out, fingertips twitching on the hard tile; she presses her forehead to the shower wall, her wet hair forming a curtain of darkness around her; she closes her eyes as he continues to fuck her, hypersensitive to touch, and inhales sharply as he brushes his fingers over her clit.

Heat builds quickly again; her body jumps as if touched by electricity when he moves her hair and kisses the bridge of muscle between her shoulder and her neck. She begins to gently tremble, moaning; he adjusts his angle and she cries out at a surge of pleasure, digging her toes into the tub, already close again. He presses his face into her hair, groaning quietly, one hand firm on one of her breasts, the other slowly swirling between her legs; she pushes back as he thrusts into her, intoxicated by the sound of their bodies together, on the way their breath echoes in the shower.

“Yes,  _yes_ ,” she moans.

He brings her closer and comes inside of her with a groan, and she comes too, his name on her lips over and over; she melts, vision hazy, her whole body shaking, and he rests against her for a moment after pulling out. She keeps her eyes closed, smiling and drifting, until she realizes she’s so overheated that she’s nearly faint.

“Oh,” she whispers, stepping out of the stream of water.

She turns the dial so the water cools, and Wolfgang leans his head back thankfully in it, moving his hands down his face, then through his hair. He grins gently and shakes his head, and Kala takes a step forward to put her arms around his neck. She tilts her head up and looks at him with glassy eyes.

“You could have warned me,” she murmurs. “I’m exhausted.”

He laughs and kisses her. She hums happily against his lips and they pull away to smile at each other, both flushed. Then they kiss again, open and generous, hands finding the details of each other’s bodies; they stay like this for a long time under the cool water, reluctant to separate.

Finally, after a few more quick kisses to ease the pain of stopping, she reaches for a bar of soap, smiles affectionately, and lathers over his shoulders. He smiles too and copies her, and then they laugh gently together, touching noses.

After ten minutes of sudsing and shampooing each other, they get out; Kala is still somewhat weak on her feet from the heat and the exertion, so Wolfgang smirks and wraps her in a luxurious white robe that’s hanging in the closet nearby. She laughs and gives him a matching robe, which he puts on only after frowning at her, and then they go back to the bed, where they collapse next to each other and meet eyes.

She nestles into him, eyes heavy with weariness, and he yawns.

She puts a finger on his lips. “No, we can’t fall asleep again…”

“We were up late,” he argues sleepily.

She hums in consideration. Then she nods, closes her eyes, and drifts off immediately.

***

They wake up in the early evening and both look at the clock in surprise. Kala’s about to suggest plans for the night, but her tummy grumbles. Wolfgang smirks and squeezes her chin softly.

“Dinner?”

She smiles. “Dinner.” Then she gasps excitedly. “Oh. Oh my God, there is this little place where you sit by the canal and they bring you pizza and wine. I read about it in one of the ten thousand bridal magazines Lito gave me, it’s supposed to be very romantic, and it’s right next to this gorgeous park where you can watch the sunset--”

He interrupts her with a kiss and nods. She grins and reaches for her phone on the bedside table, then props her head up by resting it on his chest. She hisses at the number of messages from her sister and quickly swipes them away, then looks up directions to the place she has in mind. She screenshots the map, then gets up with him to get dressed.

She glimpses him in the white robe and laughs to herself; he catches this and shoves her, and they tussle playfully for a moment by their suitcases. She finally throws a pair of jeans at him and he concedes, chuckling, and puts his clothes on. She chooses one of his favorite sundresses, a jean jacket, and some sandals; she takes a moment to scrub the remnants of the scarlet lipstick away, replacing it with some balm that, according to Wolfgang, tastes like watermelon -- he’s wrong, it’s clearly tangerine, but she gave up on this argument months ago.

She beams at him as she puts her purse over her shoulder, offering her hand, and they go out the door together. Once outside, they put their arms around each other’s waists, and Kala stretches to kiss him as they walk down the street, which is lined with cream-colored apartments and restaurants, the facades dotted with wrought iron porches and huge geranium bouquets. They walk along the line of scooters and bicycles, shifting slightly apart, taking hands again so their fingers are tangled. Kala grins fiercely at him as they walk under delicate red awnings and turn onto a narrow street with several bars and outdoor cafes.

The evening is fragrant with spices, baking bread, and coffee. The air is light, just warm enough. Kala points out small architectural details and any sign, lamp, or tree which she finds beautiful, and stretches on her toes often to kiss Wolfgang, who is as relaxed as she ever remembers him being. The narrow cobble lanes are filled with couples and revelers on Friday night, but they only see each other, eye contact scarcely broken, sparkling black into blue-green. She smiles often, intoxicated by being with him in their city, and he squeezes her hand each time she does this, which only makes her smile more widely.

They pass galleries, markets, and jewelers, all quaint, orderly, and pastel. Kala whispers that it looks more like a storybook than she expected, and she pauses and sighs as they pass a park where there is an ornate stone chapel, which is lit from below with vermillion bulbs so it appears to glow. Then she gasps excitedly and nudges Wolfgang.

“Wait, I read about this! I remember what this is, it’s built on the grounds where Louis the Sixteenth and Marie Antoinette were buried...oh…were they the ones who were guillotined?”

Wolfgang nods. “Yeah.”

“Why was that again?” murmurs Kala.

Wolfgang shrugs, amused. “Treason and conspiracy.”

Kala presses her thumb to the corner of his mouth so he doesn’t smirk. “Don’t look so pleased.”

“He was an idiot, he could have abdicated but he tried to run away to Austria.”

“I cannot believe you are as much of a nerd as I am,” she says quietly, moving him along the sidewalk.

“They had their own chocolatier, you’re asking to be beheaded if you have that,” he adds.

Kala shuts her eyes briefly, grinning, and shakes her head. “No. No one should be beheaded. And this is not an ideal honeymoon topic.”

He scoffs. “You started it.”

She rolls her eyes and leans to kiss the side of his mouth. He chuckles, then turns and kisses her properly, and they squeeze each other’s hands.

“How about the catacombs?” she jokes as they begin to walk again. “We could go there. That seems very romantic…”

They continue along the park where the chapel sits, and then they turn up a street scarcely larger than a sidewalk, which is dingier and bears some graffiti. Kala looks in wonder at the cars and scooters, and briefly envisions Wolfgang’s style of driving combined with streets this small. Her eyes widen in alarm at the thought, but she doesn’t voice her concerns since it’s their honeymoon. He eyes her, aware of her thoughts, and she smiles innocently. He laughs and they pick up their pace, leaning on each other as they approach the canal.

They cross a wide wooden walkway over the canal, and then Kala tugs Wolfgang quickly towards the pizza shop.

“Okay,” she murmurs as they get in line. “According to Lito, you order the pizza, and they give you a balloon, and then you go sit along the canal and they’ll bring you the pizza.”

Wolfgang nods. “Sounds like something Lito would like.”

Lito tsks, appearing next to them in a silk bathrobe, drinking coffee. “It is supposed to be excellent pizza,” he says defensively. “And the canal is beautiful. The balloon...is just a bonus.” He looks at them for a moment, then grins. “I see you skipped breakfast. And lunch too.”

Kala smiles, but her voice is dangerous when she says, “Goodbye, Lito.”

He winks and disappears, and Wolfgang smirks and kisses the side of his wife’s head. She smiles to herself, then gasps and quickly takes out her phone.

“Oh, I have no idea how to order, oh my God,” she whispers. “Can I trust Google translate? No…”

She does some quick research as they move up in the line, then grimaces playfully at Wolfgang, who laughs. She takes a quick breath at the counter before speaking.

“Pourrais-je avoir une pizza L’Aphrodite et…” She looks at her phone. “Et une bouteille de Bordeaux, s'il vous plait?”

The woman looks at her for a moment, but writes down the order and calls it out in rapid French to the cooks behind her. Kala hastily pays, flushed, and the woman hands her a pink balloon. She and Wolfgang step away from the counter towards the canal, and he stops her after a moment and kisses her deeply, pulling away with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow. “That was hot.”

“It wasn’t,” she says, flustered. “I’m sure I mispronounced everything.”

He shakes his head. “It was.”

“No,” she insists. “You’re simply still turned on from earlier, and it’s your turn to order next…”

But she allows herself a small smile and leans against him as they walk along the canal and find a bench under two large trees. Kala ties the balloon -- which Wolfgang glances at with slight dislike -- to the back of the bench. Then she puts her legs on his lap, and takes a French guidebook out of her purse.

“I suppose if you find it so appealing,” she says quietly, “I could learn a few phrases…”

He laughs, then he kisses her softly and squeezes her thigh. She smiles against his lips and meets his eyes, then opens to a page she marked because it contained what the guide called “romantic phrases.” She’s unsure why the average tourist would need to know how to say “I’m crazy about you,” but she doesn’t let this distract her for now. She looks at Wolfgang with slightly hooded eyes and smiles invitingly.

Then she hums, reading, and murmurs, “À toi, pour toujours.”

He slowly smiles. “What does that mean?”

“I am always yours,” she says quietly.

He kisses her again. She shifts closer to him and he takes one of her hands. She leans her head on his shoulder as her eyes drift on the page.

“Je t’aime de tout mon coeur,” she goes on. “I love you with all my heart.”

He nods. Another kiss, deeper, and Kala’s hand tightens instinctively in his. She pulls away, grinning, and hands the book to him. She basks in the mild evening air and the slight breeze, watching lights come on along the canal, bicyclists whizzing past, pigeons flocking from bastion to bastion. She nuzzles Wolfgang’s jaw with her nose and shuts her eyes for a brief moment, sinking in the surety of this evening, and he thumbs over her knuckles.

“Okay,” he says. “Tu es l’amour de ma vie. You are the love of my life.”

Kala smiles gently. “This is nice.”

He continues with an affectionate smirk, “Embrasse-moi.”

She laughs. “I know that one.”

She leans forward and they share a lingering kiss. She slides her nose against his, unwilling to pull away, and breathes out softly when the kiss finally breaks. She stays close, eyes still shut, and he moves his hand slowly through her hair.

“We shouldn’t be in public,” he mumbles after a moment.

She laughs weakly. “We should. Paris is just for us. We’re the only two people who matter here.”

He laughs too and shakes his head. She takes the book back and glances into his eyes after scanning the page.

“J’adore ton sourire,” she says, touching her fingers to his lips. “I love your smile.”

He looks into her eyes and moves his hand slightly higher on her thigh. Her throat flutters at the sensation.

She swallows, then continues in a whisper, “ J’ai envie de toi. I want you.”

He drinks in her shy expression and his mouth twitches in a small, warm smile. She smiles back, and then she blushes and grins.

“Why this is in a guidebook is quite beyond me, but...fais-moi l’amour.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. The color of her cheeks intensifies.

“Make love to me,” she says with a playful shrug, as if he should have known.

He brushes his lips on hers. “I want you to say that later.”

“I will if I remember,” she murmurs, tilting her head to kiss him.

“You can bring the book with you,” he replies. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought a book to bed before.”

“Rude,” she whispers, and then they kiss heatedly.

He’s just moved his hand covertly under her dress when they are interrupted by a weary voice. “Excusez moi?”

Kala sits up with an alarmed “mm!” and hastily apologizes to the server, who has brought their pizza. She exchanges an embarrassed, wide-eyed glance with Wolfgang, who is unfazed, and she accepts the pizza box, the bottle of wine, and two glasses. The server walks away with a slight shake of his head, and Kala looks back at Wolfgang. He shrugs, pleased, and she covers her face and laughs into her hands.

He chuckles and pulls her hands from her face, kissing her reassuringly. She hiccups while she watches him pour two glasses of wine.

“You know I love you because I’m drinking this,” he says as he sets the wine bottle aside on the bench.

“We’re in France, Wolfgang,” says Kala, taking her glass and lifting it. “We have to drink wine.”

He clicks his glass on hers, and they both take a sip. Kala hums in approval and he grimaces slightly, but plasters on a look of contentment when she glares at him. She laughs and shakes her head, then opens the pizza box and oohs softly.

“I wasn’t paying attention, what did you get?” he asks, peering over the cardboard.

“Here, try,” she says, lifting a slice so he takes a bite.

He groans quietly and nods, and she takes a bite too.

“Oh, thank God, I was starving,” she murmurs, closing her eyes and moaning. “Oh, this is so good…” She opens her eyes, then gestures at herself and adds, “This one was called  _the Aphrodite_ , which I thought was very appropriate…plus it has eggplant, which I love, and anyone who doesn’t is a fool.”

“You mean Daya, don’t you?”

“I do,” she agrees with a loud laugh.

He shakes his head with a smirk and she smiles to herself, taking another huge bite. They eat ravenously for a few minutes, pausing occasionally to sip wine or send an affectionate glance at one another; the sun slips lower in the sky and golden light flares along the canal; the sounds of the city intensify as commuters begin to honk; sirens whine distantly and music starts at several restaurants along the street.

Kala takes the last bite of pizza and sucks on her fingers for a moment, smiling; she shifts the empty box aside and pours more wine, then nestles against Wolfgang. He holds her close and they sip their wine quietly, meeting eyes.

“I love Berlin,” he says after a moment, “I think it will always be my home, and maybe we’ll go back, but I want to live here with you.”

She smiles. “It’s redemptive.”

He nods in response and squeezes her waist. She presses a gentle kiss to his mouth and pulls away with flashing eyes. She nods over his shoulder at a park nearby.

“Let’s watch the sunset,” she murmurs.

He nods again, and she caps the wine, then tucks it into her purse to take with. He chuckles at this and they take hands after recycling the pizza box and glasses at a nearby bin. Then they head east from the canal, towards the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, uphill through a quiet neighborhood that is dotted with blooming cherry trees; they go between apartments up a scenic alley, interrupted occasionally with stairs to climb, and reach the corner of the grassy park. They walk up shallow steps as the hill ascends.

The steps blend into a small street, which climbs higher, and after a moment, Kala notices a well-worn dirt path that veers off the street and up a steeper hill. She nudges Wolfgang and tugs him towards it, and they climb up the path, through a copse of dense trees, and come out on a green bank that overlooks the city. Kala sighs in wonder and lets her hand trail away from Wolfgang’s as she steps to the crest of the bank.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” she whispers, sitting in the grass.

He nods, gaze on the skyline as he sits next to her. She takes the bottle of wine from her purse and uncaps it, smiling.

“This is what we did that first night, too,” she muses. “By the river. And I wanted you so much I could barely stand it. I was very patient that night.”

He laughs quietly and stretches to kiss the side of her neck. She shivers from the sensation and the breeze and presses closer. He takes a drink of wine, and then she does, and they look over the city as the fuschia and lavender light reflects on the clouds. After a moment, she presses her forehead to his temple and inhales deeply, eyes closed; she hugs him from the side, brow knitted, and sniffles.

“I love you so much,” she murmurs.

He turns his head to glance at her. She smiles and looks at him with glassy, exultant eyes, then tips her gaze down and laughs at herself for the sudden intensity of her emotion. He smiles and lifts her chin to kiss her.

“I love you,” he says back in a deep, quiet voice.

She shakes her head slightly and presses closer. “This -- this isn’t too different for you? From your life before? Sometimes I wonder if you miss--.”

“No,” he interrupts softly. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

She smiles, but she tilts her head. “I don’t know. I’m sure sixteen-year-old Wolfgang Bogdanow would not say all he wanted was to get married.”

“Sixteen-year-old Wolfgang Bogdanow is not a great reference,” he jokes.

She laughs. “You know what I mean.”

He nods and slides his hand over hers, entwining their fingers; he glances down and gives a small shrug. “I wanted you, all I ever wanted was you, but I didn’t know that until I met you. So no, I wouldn’t have said that at sixteen, or twenty-five, but I would now.”

“And you won’t miss…” She pauses and shakes her head. “I know it sounds silly to ask if you would miss a life that was so dangerous and exhausting, but--”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her after he takes another sip of wine. “But I won’t miss it. When we were dancing last night I…” He shakes his head. “I kept thinking about what my life would be if I never met you, or if I lost you...it was all meaningless, süße... the girls, picking fights.”

She nods, urging him to go on. He hesitates for a moment, not because he isn’t willing to share, but because the right words are difficult to find.

“I would have died without ever knowing what it’s like...to love someone the way I love you, and be loved like you love me,” he says after a while.

She nods solemnly, fingers tight and hopeful between his.

“I would live the same day over for the rest of my life if it meant I got to live it with you,” he murmurs, glancing down. “I don’t give a shit how exciting my life is. I want you.”

She sniffles and continues to nod. Then she presses a tearful kiss to his mouth.

“I feel the same,” she whispers, staying close. Then she laughs and cries at once and adds, “Although, knowing us, we’ll barely survive this honeymoon. We’ll find trouble.”

He grins. “Knowing us.”

“Do you know how eloquent you are?” she asks after a moment.

He glances down with a slight smile.

“You are,” she insists. “Do you secretly write poetry--”

He elbows her and she snuggles into him, nuzzling him, and then they hold each other close and laugh together; her nose wrinkles in pure joy and he kisses her enthusiastically. They stay close when they break apart, searching each other’s eyes.

“I don’t write anything,” he says in response. “But I draw you when you’re not watching.”

She raises her slender brows. “How often?”

He tilts his head in a way which suggests he does very often, and then he takes a small notebook out of the inside of his jacket. She eyes it for a moment, but then she relaxes, puts her hair over one shoulder, and leans back on her elbows.

“Are you posing?” he asks with a surprised laugh.

She smiles and turns on her side, popping her hip up. “Is it better like this?”

He grins and shakes his head. “As much as I want to recreate Titanic with you--”

She interrupts him by giggling. He softens, then hands her the notebook.

“Here,” he says quietly.

She sits up on her elbow, watching him curiously for a moment before opening the notebook. Her heart immediately jumps at the pen sketch. She remembers the first drawing of his that she found-- it was a bit messy, scribbled while distracted, but this drawing is neat and layered -- it’s dated last July, and it depicts her arguing playfully with Felix at their kitchen table while sipping a mug of tea; he’s captured the slight, amused crinkle of her nose perfectly.

She lifts her gaze, cautious and stunned, before turning the page. This drawing shows her slouched in bed, painting her nails, deep in concentration; she remembers the night distantly, August, breezy, when they were still getting accustomed to a domestic routine. She turns the page again and sees herself chopping strawberries, her hair falling around her face; another turn, and she sees an image of a quiet September night, a book in her lap, a glass of wine absently in one hand, slightly tilted as she reads, absorbed. The next page contains a small but detailed image of her braiding her hair in her pajamas, face tilted down, a smile on her face that suggests they made love just before he sketched this.

She continues through the notebook. An image of her in a San Francisco hotel in a plum-colored bridesmaid dress, on her side on the bed, still in her heels, asleep. She remembers waking up without heels, and knows now he took them off for her. The next page, a close-up of her holding a cup of coffee -- she notes the engagement ring on her fourth finger, and see it’s dated before the night in November that they asked each other. She wonders briefly how long he wanted to marry her before he asked, and then she flips the page. Her sitting on the floor of the living room, legs in a pretzel shape, attempting to wrap a present. Another page, and she sees herself in a Santa Claus hat -- it’s half off, and she’s deeply asleep on their bed, sidelong; she suspects this was the morning after the night they drank an inadvisable amount of eggnog and talked about his mother.

The next page shows her in Mexico, in a bikini and one of his shirts, leaning on a lawn chair and sipping a drink with Sun and Dani. Her expression is slightly alarmed, and Dani’s is exuberant, suggesting she’s telling a scandalous story. Next, a quiet night in March, in bed with a cup of coffee and her laptop off-center, ignored in favor of the view outside. The next, she’s sure, is not spontaneous because he had no opportunity to draw -- it’s of her on a narrow street next to a wooded cemetery, holding bishop’s weed; she sees a smaller sketch of who could only be Elyse Bogdanow, dark brows and a determined smile, a simple gesture in pen that captures his feelings for his lost mother. Her jaw tightens slightly as she turns another page. She sees herself lounging on a lawn, Monbijou Park, stretched on the grass with a sandwich in her hand.

The last sketch shows her in one of his tee-shirts and reading glasses, a pencil behind her ear; she’s standing in their bedroom, surrounded by suitcases and bags, hair frizzy. She’s going over their travel paperwork, the night before flying to Paris.

She swallows and slowly breathes out, then lifts her fingertips to her wet eyes. She shakes her head, eyes still fixed on the notebook, and silently reaches for his hand. She’s sure, despite the fact that she’s his wife, that sharing this with her was an unusually intimate action; she reassures him by gently squeezing his hand, and then she hands the notebook back and meets his eyes, which are cautious and hopeful.

“I...Wolfgang, I had no idea you…” She trails off, sniffles, then goes on emphatically, “Those sketches are beautiful. And I...I love the way you look at me and what you see because I don’t…” She touches her fingers to the notebook in his hand. “I don’t see myself this way, and I should...and I know, for a fact, that you’re the first man who’s looked at me and seen all of this, the first man who...who loves me in the moment and doesn’t want to see me naked.” She laughs. “Doesn’t only want to see me naked.” She smiles and wipes her eyes, then whispers, “God, I love you.”

He brushes his knuckles on her cheek, then takes her face gently in his hand. She lifts her chin to accept a kiss, then looks into his eyes as she pulls back.

“They’re very good,” she adds. “Where did you learn to draw like that?”

He shakes his head and chuckles, then opens the notebook and gestures at a perforated edge, that shows a page has been torn out. He flips a few pages and shows her several more of these.

“Just worked at it, threw most of them away,” he explains.

“No,” sighs Kala. “I’ll never get to see those…”

He raises an eyebrow. “Those were the dirty ones.”

“Yes,” she plays along, laughing.

He taps the notebook. “This was carefully curated so you wouldn’t be offended.”

She grins and chuckles. They look into each other’s eyes, the playful tone intensifying, and then they press their foreheads together and laugh hard.

He shakes his head after a moment, then kisses her, and she smiles against his lips; she leans back, tugging him with her, and he nuzzles into her neck and kisses her here. Then she turns so she’s on top of him, her nose just touching his. She looks into his eyes for a moment, and then she bites the tip of her tongue, amused, and lets her weight down on him. He laughs and latches his arms around her in a tight hug; she relaxes, closing her eyes, and hums contentedly.

He rubs her back and breathes in deeply, nudging his knee in between her legs to get comfortable, and closes his eyes too. They stay like this, unspeaking, for nearly twenty minutes. Kala finds herself close to sleep by the time he nudges her and directs his eyes at the sky; she shifts onto her back next to him and yawns, then follows his gaze.

“Oh,” she breathes, seeing the emergence of faint stars and planets.

They stare together for a moment, beyond the vast fears that only a year ago consumed them. Kala puts her hand on his heart and her lips form a small, warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be another chapter set in Paris after this :-)


	41. June 15, 11:06 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang go to Versailles and watch the sunset in Montmartre.

Kala stands on her toes, rocking forward and clinging to Wolfgang with a smile. She slides her hands over his chest and tilts her head.

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” she asks.

They’re waiting for an attendant to return with keys to the motorcycle they’re renting. After four days in Paris, they decided to explore Versailles, and Wolfgang insisted that a motorcycle was the best way to get there. Kala knows this is because he wants to terrify her.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies, pulling her closer by her waist before gliding his hands over her ass.

Her eyes brighten in amusement and arousal and she stretches to touch her nose to his. He smiles and squeezes her ass. He has no presence of mind lately; he is inundated with Kala, saturated by her; since marrying her, and spending so much time in bed with her, the world has faded and the only thing that exists is bronze skin, flyaway hair, lips that taste like strong French coffee.

“Mm, the way you drive a car does not convince me that you know how to ride a motorcycle,” she murmurs.

He laughs and tangles his fingers lightly in the linen fabric of her sundress.

“I rode a motorcycle for a while before I met you,” he says. “That’s why I’m a bad driver. I took the way I rode a motorcycle and applied it to driving a car.”

She slides her fingers through his hair. “Aren’t you supposed to be more careful when riding a motorcycle?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t care if I lived or died before I met you,” he replies.

He’s joking, mostly, but he notices her eyes soften in sorrow. She nods and thumbs over his cheek, then kisses him warmly. She’s been exceptionally generous with him in the last few days, and him with her, but it hits him in a new way -- every time she’s kissed him, taken his cock into her mouth, opened her legs for him to enter her, he’s felt redemption along with pleasure. The hunger he has for her has grown more complex; he touches her out of want but also out of exaltation.

“Wolfgang, you have that look in your eyes...”

“Hm?” he says. “What, babe?”

She laughs and kisses him, smiling against his lips. “You’ve been very thoughtful the last few days…”

He nods and kisses her deeply, holding her close. She makes a small noise of surprise and sweeps her tongue along his, then moans into his mouth.

“We’re in public,” she whispers as he pulls away.

He smirks, a brazen fire in his eyes. “Yeah, in Paris. You can do anything in public in Paris.”

“You’re only saying that because we saw that couple making love in a public park,” she retorts, blushing. “They do not set a good example.”

He grins and presses a quick, chaste kiss to her lips, then squeezes her waist. “You’re boring.”

She laughs and looks at him with affectionate eyes, about to retort that he wouldn’t have said that last night, but the attendant returns with keys and two helmets.

Wolfgang takes these with a word of thanks and glances in anticipation at Kala, who bites her bottom lip and eyes the motorcycle next to them. He tugs her towards it by the belt around her waist and puts one of the helmets over her frizzy ringlets. She pouts.

He pauses at the sight. “You’re adorable--”

She shoves him, laughing, and he grins at himself as he puts on his own helmet. “Hope I remember how to do this.”

“Please don’t say things like that,” breathes Kala.

“I’m kidding,” he replies, getting on the bike. “Mostly.” He pauses. “Wait here, I want to go around the block once to get used to it.”

Kala shakes her head. He chuckles and starts the bike, then presses the pedal and shoots down the street. It’s been years, but his muscle memory kicks in instantly, and he grins. He pledges to scare the shit out of his overly-cautious wife.

He pulls up in front of her after a moment and finds her standing with her arms crossed. He tilts to his head encouragingly and she gets on the bike behind him, clinging tightly.

“Please go slowly--”

He touches his foot to the gas and the bike speeds away from the curb. Kala screams softly and her arms clench even tighter around his middle; in their shared mind, perceives a surge of annoyance and a promise of revenge. He grins to himself.

They speed West past ornate, cream-colored apartments and shops, under willow and elm trees, and briefly pass through a park before merging onto a large avenue towards Versailles. He rides over the speed limit most of the way, disobeying several laws and passing incautiously, though not genuinely endangering them. Kala prays as they whip through a dark tunnel and Wolfgang smirks to himself, exiting to a narrow road as they reach Versailles.

The ancient architecture of the city closes in on each side and Wolfgang speeds up, at one point avoiding a small produce cart that had rolled into the lane. Kala’s fingers dig into him and he senses another wave of outrage. He slows eventually and parks along a wooded street near a cathedral. Kala gets off the scooter unsteadily and he mirrors her.

She takes her helmet off and fixes him with the look he’s sure will put the fear of God into their future children. He grins, putting his hands on his hips.

“You cannot be trusted,” she tells him.

“I had to scare you for fun,” he admits.

“I’m your wife,” she replies, adding as she sets the helmet in the storage on the back of the bike, “for now.”

“Ouch,” he says, pulling her into his arms.

She shoves him. “Don’t you dare, you deserve the silent treatment right now.” Then she softens and touches her thumb to his lips. “Although...seeing you on a motorcycle is a bit of a turn-on.”

“Yeah?” he asks, pinching her sides.

“Perhaps it was just the vibration of the seat,” she says with a bland, innocent smile.

He looks at her until she tips her head down, laughing, flushed to the roots of her hair. He starts to laugh too, and soon they’re bumping their noses and gripping each other to stay standing, dissolving into a chorus of desperate, furious laughter.

“Okay,” Kala finally hiccups, steadying herself by leaning into him.

“I knew you’d make a sex joke eventually,” he says, still chuckling.

“Well, enjoy it, God allotted me one sex joke, so I’ll never tell another,” she retorts.

He grins and shakes his head. “I love you so much.”

She kisses him firmly, eyes flashing in affection and amusement. “I love you too.” She kisses him again and adds, “I also love breakfast.”

“Which do you love more?” he asks in a serious tone.

She puts her arms around his neck and says, breath lingering on his mouth, “You.”

He glances at her, caught off-guard. “I was joking, but--”

She smiles and kisses him again. “I know.” Another kiss. “But I love you too much.”

She hangs on him and meets his gaze, solemn, and he breathes in and shakes his head softly, then glances down to hide a smile. She presses closer, lifting his chin and searching his eyes.

“I didn’t expect to feel closer to you after getting married,” he admits quietly. “I didn’t think there was anything beyond our connection but…”

“Something changed for me too,” she replies.

He nods and she smiles more brightly. They share a long, lively kiss, pulling away only after the scooter falls because Wolfgang did not prop it up correctly.

“You incur a lot of unnecessary expenses,” says Kala after he rights the bike and correctly engages the kickstand.

“It’s intentional, I’m preparing you for when we have kids.”

She laughs and shakes her head, taking her umbrella out of the back of the bike in case of afternoon rain.

“I see,” she says, going along. “That’s very wise of you--”

He snorts and hugs her from the side while they walk down the street. She grins and adjusts her sunglasses, leaning into him, and they find a small café after several minutes. They eat breakfast outside at a wrought iron table -- hot chocolate, eggs with truffle oil, and slices of huge, juicy peaches -- and then set about exploring the city.

They walk slowly, fingers tangled, and spend the morning and most of the afternoon simply wandering. Kala pauses to take photos, Wolfgang reads historical plaques, and after sharing an iced coffee and getting lost, they find their way to the Palace.

They stand in the garden together, breathing out, and take in the sight. It’s larger than Wolfgang was anticipating and far more ornate in person than the photos he’s seen, an expanse of creamy marble with hundreds if not thousands of windows. The gargoyles and statues gleam in the June sun and the fountains sparkle as water jets out of them. It’s incomprehensible to him that this was constructed for one family.

“Underwhelming,” he jokes.

She grins. “It’s incredible to me they could construct anything so beautiful so long ago.”

“All that and everyone else starved,” he murmurs.

Kala hums and leans against him. “There’s my love.”

He wraps an arm around her waist. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“I know,” she says, adding, “you would make an awful tour guide, can you imagine?”

He laughs in agreement and they start to approach the palace. Wolfgang spends the next hour watching his wife stare in open-mouthed amazement at the statues and paintings. He looks at her more than he does at the art or architecture, which she gently points out after he says “What?” to her passionate praise of the Hall of Mirrors.

She rolls her eyes, full of warmth, and says, “You don’t get to see art like this so often.”

“Yes I do,” he replies, looking at her directly.

She blinks at him, waiting for a smirk or a chuckle, but his expression remains earnest. She exhales, brow twitching with affection, and she tilts her head.

“You’re going to make my heart burst if you keep acting like this…”

“Like what?” he asks, now playing.

She shakes her head, flushed. “You’re being intentionally romantic, which is one thing for most people, but you...you aren’t like most people. It’s more intense from someone like you.” She sighs, cheeks dark, then hugs him and looks up at him with tender eyes. “You keep making me want to be alone with you...”

He gives the smallest smile and the light in his eyes changes. He kisses her, very softly, eyes still lost in hers until he can’t fight the urge to close them and sink more heavily against her body.

“We’re not going to remember anything about our honeymoon except each other,” she murmurs against his lips as the kiss fades.

He chuckles. “That’s okay.”

She nods and smiles brightly at him, taking his hand. They continue through the many halls and museums of the palace with the same dynamic -- Kala gasping, Wolfgang softening each time at the sound -- and by the time they’ve reached the gardens again, he’s itching to sketch her, and if not that, make out with her under a tree.

They sit on the grass, still in view of the Palace, and Kala takes two large croissants out of her purse. She smiles and offers one to Wolfgang, who shakes his head. He removes his sketchbook from her bag and pops the cap of his pen. She looks at him as she takes a bite of croissant and smiles around it in anticipation. He smiles gently too, leaning to press a quick kiss to the side of her mouth, and then he leans against the trunk of the tree they’re under.

He begins a lifelike but messy sketch of her, casual in the shade, eating, her gaze directed at one of the fountains nearby. She meets his eyes occasionally and beams, but remains otherwise serene and thoughtful. After twenty minutes, he’s about to cap his pen, but he glances at the Palace behind her and, smirking, adds a crown to her head in the sketch.

She bites her bottom lip, curious, and holds her hand out for him to show her. He gives her the notebook and she looks at the sketch without expression for a second before bursting into charmed laughter.

“Oh my God!” she says softly. “Wolfgang…”

“You looked so at home in the Palace--”

She interrupts with a roll of her eyes, though her lips twitch and betray how pleased she is, and she hands the sketch back.

“You look like a queen,” he says with a shrug, smiling with just a touch of mischief and flirtation.

She flashes her eyes at him again, but smiles widely, and then she picks up her umbrella and clears her throat. “If I’m a queen…” she murmurs, tapping the umbrella on the top of each of his shoulders, “then you can be a knight.”

He grins hard and shakes his head, pulling her close and digging his thumbs gently into her sides. She laughs and kicks, then softens and falls back with him onto the grass, meeting him in a deep, playful kiss.

“Just a knight, not a king?” he asks as he pulls up, dragging his fingers lightly over her ribs.

She perks one of her eyebrows. “You’re the knight I’m having an affair with.”

He nods and murmurs, “Even better” just before he kisses her again.

They spend the next moment entangled, indifferent to the world around them, and then Kala breathes in softly and knees him, and they both sit up, slightly mussed.

“Want to find a park with more privacy and make out like teenagers?” he asks.

“Yes,” she whispers fervently, getting up and taking his hand.

It doesn’t take long before they find a more densely wooded park, the grounds around Marie Antoinette's former lodging, and the home of the Temple de l’Amour. Wolfgang would have been content to pull Kala into a copse of trees and slide his hand up her dress, but she gasped excitedly at the prospect of seeing the famous temple.

“I didn’t realize this was in Versailles!” she says breathily as she tugs him down a dusty path. “Apparently this is the most popular place to get engaged in France…”

“Why would anyone want to do what everyone else does?” he murmurs.

“Sometimes tradition is nice.” But she glances at him, understanding. “I like how we did it. That café is just for us.”

He nods, sliding his arm around her waist while they walk, and they come into view of a small, neoclassical shrine surrounded by a small moat. It is marble, styled like a gazebo with pillars. He senses a whisper of hesitation in his wife and glances at her.

She looks at him apologetically. “Can we take a picture for my parents?”

He knows she’s aware of his dislike of pictures, especially those that require posing, but he nods. She smiles, relaxing, and takes her phone from her purse. She rolls her eyes and swipes away a notification from Felix asking her to ask Wolfgang to call him, then stretches on her toes and looks at the camera with Wolfgang, the temple in the background.

“Love, you have to smile,” she murmurs.

“I am,” he argues, well-aware he isn’t.

“Think about me getting arrested for stealing that bottle of wine,” she says.

He laughs helplessly and she takes the picture; he scoffs at this trick and gently slaps her ass, and she trots ahead of him, looking over her shoulder, smirking. He hurries to catch up, smiling to himself, and catches her in his arms from behind. She giggles and they sway slightly before resuming a normal pace, both drunk on each other’s presence.

She flashes a soft grin at him before texting her family the picture, and then her shoulders soften in amusement and she shows him the response from Daya.

Daya, 13:45 -- _Great, another boring building thingy. How is the sex?? You still haven’t said a word!_

“Better than anything she’ll ever get,” suggests Wolfgang.

Kala looks at him with slightly pursed lips, but then she giggles and writes this.

“You’re a bad influence,” says Kala as she puts her phone in her purse.

“Your sister is annoying as shit,” he returns.

“Yes, that is true,” admits Kala, nodding.

They continue along the chalky path until they reach a small stone bridge to the temple. Kala walks ahead of Wolfgang, and he glances down, smiling at her exuberance. He walks intentionally slow, watching, her hair blending into the dark calico pattern of her sundress.

He breathes out, wondering for a moment what his reaction would be if this was his first time seeing her, if she was a stranger in Paris paying homage to this temple in the hope that the experience it is dedicated to will find her. She’s expressed that they would fall in love with each other in every universe and he agrees. He smiles, unable to help it, and walks more quickly so he enters the temple with her. It’s empty, a blessing.

“This is beautiful,” she says in admiration.

Moreso with her inside of it, her eyes softly glinting as she spins. She laughs at herself and lets her arms fall as she turns the last time. She meets his eyes and another pin of the lock around his heart clicks out of place. He finds himself wanting to confess the love she is already aware he feels for her. At this thought, he sees her soften and tilt her head. He reaches her in the center of the temple and takes her in his arms.

“I know this is silly,” she says quietly, eyes steady. “But do you ever wonder if…” She pauses to laugh at herself. “Well, sometimes when I’m with you, it’s so good that I wonder if we died at BPO and this is...this is where we came after.”

He shakes his head and slides his hand through her hair. “No, I don’t wonder that.”

“Why?” she asks earnestly.

“Because I still feel it every day, süße,” he admits.

Her hands glide up his chest. “Feel what?”

“What they did,” he explains, adding quietly, “This isn’t heaven.” He smiles slightly. “You might be though.”

She grins but there is lingering sorrow in her eyes and soon her happiness fades.

She sniffles. “God, I love you.”

He brings her closer and breathes out, eyes locked briefly with hers before dropping down; he indulges for a moment in her warmth, the way she relaxes under his touch, and then he mumbles, “I was thinking how the best love stories are tragic and I think I know why.”

Her grip tightens slightly and she breathes, “Why?”

“Because you don’t know how much you love someone until they’re gone,” he says; his tone is light but it conveys the grief of their pasts.

Kala breathes out, holding still in the tangerine light of the fading afternoon.

“You can’t express it well enough before losing them,” he adds. “Because you don’t understand it well enough before that.”

“You thought you lost me when…?”

“No,” he says gently. “I thought you lost me and I felt it because you did.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, soft but genuine surprise entering her voice; she sinks, sniffling again. “Oh, Wolfgang…”

He touches her forehead to hers and they both close their eyes, inhaling. Then she lets her head fall against his chest and he hugs her tightly.

“I always ask Ganesha to let me die in my sleep next to you,” she says quietly. “When we are very old, when there isn’t a single experience we haven’t shared…” She shakes her head. “The idea of losing you before that is too much.”

He exhales the breath he held through these words and murmurs, “I know. But I thought you would lose me before we ever had this, and if I had to pick between those I would pick this...”

She pulls back, profile shadowed by the light that streams in through the marble beams, and whispers fiercely, “Yes. I would have chosen a short life that included one day with you over an eternal life without you.”

His brow wrinkles helplessly and he touches his nose to hers; they take the same breath, breathing in each other.

“I love you,” they say together.

Then she laughs, overwhelmed, and they take hands. They leave the temple and wander through the gardens for an hour with no urge to speak, only to glance at each other and occasionally kiss. Kala’s sense of direction leads them eventually to the motorcycle, and she suggests they watch the sunset in Montmartre. He agrees and gets on the bike just before she does, and she hugs him contentedly, sleepily. The city passes, a blur of auburn and indigo, and he feels her relax slightly behind him as she takes in the twilight; he can feel the tranquility of her mind and he’s sure she’s wearing her softest, most serene smile -- the one that makes her eyes slightly glow and exposes a tiny wrinkle on the corner of her mouth.

The streets steepen as they approach Montmartre and Wolfgang parks along a courtyard with a carousel. He props the bike up and takes off his helmet, then runs his hand through his hair to loosen it. Kala watches this with a smirk, satisfied with the image, and he pauses as he sets the helmet aside. She blinks innocently at him.

He laughs to himself and makes a show of running his hand through his hair again; she laughs loudly and shoves him, then hangs on him, blushing and shaking her head.

She tangles her fingers in his as they walk away from the motorcycle towards a small, fenced garden with benches and slender elms.

“There’s supposed to be a bar with good rosé and a view,” muses Kala.

"Not wine,” he murmurs. "I don't want another glass of wine as long as I live."

She rolls her eyes at this remark and tugs him along the sidewalk, then checks her phone to find the bar she had in mind. After a moment, he stops and nudges her.

“Mm?” she asks, looking up. Then she gasps softly. To their left there is a large wall, painted black, and inscribed with many languages and dialects. “Oh, look…”

“I think they all say I love you,” he says quietly.

“I read about this!” she says breathlessly. “They do, this is the wall of love...oh, we have to take a picture, I need to put this on Instagram.”

He glances at her. “You do that?”

“Don’t tease me,” she says primly, walking towards the wall with him. She smiles at an elderly woman nearby. “Madame, excusez-moi, allez-vous prendre notre photo?”

Wolfgang looks at his wife in surprise, then tilts his head, reflecting on the fact that she’s spent all her free time reading a French dictionary.

The woman smiles warmly and nods, taking Kala’s phone from her. Kala beams in thanks and nudges Wolfgang closer to the wall, then gasps in inspiration.

“Ooh, you point at the words written in Hindi and I’ll point at the ones in German!”

He gives her a massive eye roll for suggesting something this cutesy.

“Only for you,” he murmurs, directing his index finger at the neatly painted   
_मैं तुमसे प्यार करता हूँ._

She grins at him and points at _ich_ _liebe dich,_ then wraps her free arm around his middle and tucks her head on his shoulder. The woman takes their picture, and as she hands the phone back to Kala, she smirks.

“Ton mari est très beau,” she says wryly, walking away.

Kala flushes and wrinkles her nose in delight, looking at Wolfgang, who frowns.

“What?” he asks.

“She said you’re very good-looking,” replies Kala.

He hums. “ _Just_ good-looking?”

“Wolfgang!” laughs Kala, exasperated.

He smirks coolly and squeezes her waist as they walk to a nearby bench. She rolls her eyes, still laughing, and tugs him to sit next to her. She pulls up the picture and he watches over her shoulder, then nestles his nose in her hair, smiling, and mumbles, “You look nice.”

She turns and kisses him quickly. “Except for my hair from being in that helmet…”

He snorts and grasps her curls in his hand, tugging gently. “Your hair’s a force of nature babe, the helmet didn’t touch it.” He frowns. “We’re fucked if our kids get your hair.”

She laughs, opening Instagram, and murmurs, “Can you imagine getting gum out of hair like this?”

“Yeah, that’s what scissors are for,” he replies, and then his eyes widen as he looks at her phone. “Kala, why do you have six thousand followers?”

“Oh, Lito keeps recommending my account to everyone in Hollywood,” she replies impassively. “It’s not many, Dani has ten thousand. And Lito has nearly fifty. Oh, and so does Riley.”

He narrows his eyes. “What? Why would people care that much about you?”

She makes a face at him.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he tells her, laughing. “I’m sorry, shit--”

“Rude,” she whispers, adding, “Lito is famous, and so is Riley, and Dani has...cleavage and good captions.”

“So what’s your strategy?” he asks.

“I suppose they just like what I post?”

He hesitates. “Are there pictures of me there?”

“Yes, of course, you’re my husband,” she says, beginning to edit the photo. “I asked you about this.”

He scoffs playfully. “You did not ask me about this.”

She meets his eyes. “I did.”

He senses no trace of dishonesty and shakes his head slightly. “No memory of that.”

She laughs quietly and bumps against him, then posts the photo. She is about to pocket her phone but Wolfgang nabs it from her and begins to scroll through her account. His eyes widen and he freezes.

“Kala,” he murmurs.

“Wolfgang?” she replies pleasantly.

“How many pictures do you take? Fuck, you’re lucky I love you--”

She hisses softly at him and tries to take her phone back but he holds it out of reach, staring in horrified captivation at a picture of the two of them in a rather grungy Berlin theater, their noses just touching.

“Who took this?” he asks.

“Felix,” she replies.

He glances at the caption, which reads _head over_ followed by the high heels emoji. He groans softly and shuts his eyes for a moment.

“Kala,” he says again.

“Yes?” she says in the same tone as before.

He shakes his head and continues to scroll, stopping at a picture of them sunbathing together; she took it from above, showing them from the waist up; he recognizes the bikini she’s wearing and realizes this was taken during their time in Mexico. She’s wearing iridescent sunglasses and sticking her tongue out. He is expressionless -- he suspects he was asleep.

The caption is: _Sorry ladies, he’s mine_ with a winking emoji.

“How did I not know about this?” he breathes, scrolling through the comments.

He grumbles and makes a noise of annoyance when he reads _He makes me want to be a homewrecker! Call me honey!_ Another reads: _He makes Chris Hemsworth look like a wet newspaper,_ followed by several fire emojis.

He raises his eyebrows at her and she tilts her head.

“I think Lito got a lot of the party gays to follow me and they...like you.”

He stares at her and then breaks into soft laughter, shaking his head, gaze downcast. “Kala, what the fuck.”

She snuggles into him, also laughing, and murmurs, “You should be flattered. Besides, I don’t post anything too intimate even though I do have an...extensive collection of photos of us in bed together.”

He looks at her with a question in his eyes.

She puffs her lips out unapologetically. “You know that. I like to take pictures after we make love.”

“Waiting for the day you accidentally send all those to your family,” he mutters.

She breathes out and blinks, considering this. “We would have to fake our own deaths.”

“Should be easy enough,” he says. “We could burn down our apartment.”

“We would need to leave our teeth behind to prove we really died,” she muses.

“Maybe we could drown instead,” he suggests.

“Yes, we could clone ourselves,” she says. “And drown the clones.” She hums. “That is ethically questionable.”

“They’re just clones…”

“Clones have feelings, Wolfgang,” she replies.

They both start to laugh at the subject of this conversation, pressing closer and nudging each other teasingly. Then Kala steals her phone back and gets to her feet, tugging him after her.

They walk through the gardens to the bright street at the other end, taking hands as they dart across it and down an alley, where Kala spots a small bar. He opens the door for her and they go inside, then find a table near the window which looks out at Montmartre. Clouds have gathered in the pastel sky and the wind picks up as they take their seats.

“I think it’s going to rain…” murmurs Kala, glancing at a wine list.

He looks at the list too and turns it over, searching for beer. A waitress comes by and takes their orders, coming back a moment later with a glass of rosé and a pint of dark beer. Kala smiles gently, clicks her glass on Wolfgang’s, and they both drink. Thunder rumbles and it begins to rain, and Kala’s shoulders soften, indulging in the sound as she looks out at the storm.

“This is the most beautiful city in the world,” she whispers. “I don’t want to leave…”

He smiles and shrugs. “We can come back.”

“I know,” she says sadly, and then she glances at him with a small smile. “I was thinking we could look at apartments tomorrow, actually…”

He looks at her with mild surprise. “Okay.”

“And I think I like this neighborhood the most,” she adds, grinning. “The view is incredible. I know it’s expensive, but I don’t mind something very small. It could even be a studio...although I do want a nice kitchen…” She laughs. “We could share a single bed if we have to...you’re on top of me most nights anyway--”

He chokes slightly on his beer, laughing.

“It’s true,” she murmurs as she sips her wine.

“I don’t sleep on top of you, you end up on top of me so I can’t breathe,” he replies, adding, “and you steal all the covers. And you talk in your sleep.”

“I do not--”

“You do!” he insists. “You mumble things like...chemical equations.”

“God,” she sighs. “I dream about chemistry instead of...adventures and romance…” Then she hums, interested. “What do you dream about most often?”

He shakes his head and thumbs some foam left from his beer off his upper lip. “I don’t dream very often.”

“But when you do?” she asks.

He glances down, thinking, and says, “I never dream about my real life, most of the time none of it makes sense. It’s like reading a book where someone redacted half the words.”

She smiles at his careful description and hums again. “Mine aren’t like that at all. They’re always about my own life, a problem I have, my parents…”

“I dreamed about you constantly before we were together though,” he tells her.

She nods, leaning forward. “Yes! I dreamed only of you for months and…” She pauses, eyes seeking the storm again, and continues more quietly, “Those dreams always felt more real than any dream I had before. Sometimes more real than my actual life. I don’t know if that’s because of our connection or…”

“Me too,” he agrees. “It was disorienting to wake up because I was sure everything was real.” He takes a long drink of beer. “I didn’t want to sleep after you got married because seeing you when I was dreaming was too hard.”

“I would see you after I was married too,” she murmurs. “But they weren’t good dreams. They were always good before but after that you felt just...just as distant as you did when I was awake.”

He tips his head back in thought. “I wonder if we controlled that without knowing we did.”

“It’s possible,” she says curiously. “Especially if one of us was awake when the other was asleep.” She smiles. “What would we do when you dreamed about me?”

He smiles too, a flicker of affection entering his eyes. “I mostly just held you.”

“God,” she whispers. “What if we were in the same dream and we didn’t know it? We should try to dream together…”

He laughs. “You can’t control dreams like that.”

“I can,” she says. “I usually know when I’m dreaming and I can wake myself up if I don’t like it.”

He squints. “Really?”

She nods, also surprised. “I thought that was always true. You mean you’re stuck in your dreams? Even nightmares?”

“Especially nightmares,” he says.

She clicks her tongue sadly. “Oh...I didn’t know that. I always wake you up if I notice something’s wrong but I’m sure I sleep through it sometimes…”

He shakes his head, covering one of her hands with his own and squeezing it. “Not your job.”

She nods unsurely and smiles, but there is an unspoken apology in her eyes. She sips her wine and looks out the window at the tumultuous, smoky clouds.

“In my dreams we always talked,” she murmurs, and then she blushes deeply and adds, “almost always.”

“Did you have a sex dream you never told me about?” he asks casually.

“N-no,” she says indignantly, continuing immediately, “yes, a few times.”

He grins, meeting her eyes as he lifts his beer to his mouth. She looks down, laughing at herself, and fingers the stem of her wine glass.

“Details,” he says as he sets his beer down.

“Um,” she says breathily. “You usually just...held me from behind and...touched me?”

“Where?” he asks impudently.

She flashes her eyes at him and finishes her wine. “Wolfgang…”

His grin only widens. “Pandora’s box babe, you knew better than to bring this up.”

She takes a steadying breath and says quietly, “Mostly my breasts--”

The waitress returns with two more drinks for them. Kala’s eyes widen and Wolfgang laughs, delighted by this bad timing. She kicks him under the table as the waitress departs.

“Where else?” he asks as his laughter fades. “Were you naked?” He raises an eyebrow and drinks his beer. “Did you come?”

“If you stop trying to turn me on in public, maybe I’ll recreate the dreams for you later...” she tells him.

He leans forward so his lips are near her ear. “You like it when I make you wet in public.”

She takes his chin firmly in her fingers and her breath lingers on his lips when she whispers, “I will murder you in your sleep.”

He grins and leans back. “That’s hot.”

She laughs and covers her face, shaking her head hopelessly. He reaches under the table to coax her legs onto his lap, and thumbs gently over her calf, bringing on a happy shiver. He knows her flushed skin has nothing to do with the wine and he smiles, slightly smug, as he watches her tongue over her bottom lip.

“You never had those dreams about me?” she murmurs suspiciously.

He smiles and takes a sip of beer. “I did, all the time.”

She hums thoughtfully and lifts her knee, encouraging him to keep stroking her skin. He moves his touch slightly higher, brushing her thigh, and she breathes out unsteadily.

“Did it feel real? Mine did.”

He nods. “Not like this, though,” he says, pressing his nail gently into her skin.

“It was like how touching you felt before we met in person,” she agrees, adding quietly, “I always woke up so lonely. It almost felt like dreaming about someone who had died because I was so sure we would never get to be together. It felt like visiting the past, or a different world, one I would have rather lived in.” She breathes out slowly. “It was so hard not to visit you.”

He nods again, eyes down, and squeezes her knee affectionately. “Part of the reason I drank so much after you got married was so I’d sleep without dreaming about you, it was too hard not to visit after that.”

“It hurt too much,” she says, glancing outside as the storm intensifies. “God,” she goes on, voice astonished rather than mournful. “I told myself I could be happy without you. What was I thinking?”

He smiles gently and glances down. “I knew I couldn’t be happy without you, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” He shakes his head. “I would have been unhappy but not as unhappy as I would have been if I thought you were in pain.”

She smiles too. “We both would have been in pain for the rest of our lives.” She looks at him with warm eyes. “You know that I was never indecisive, don’t you? I was scared but I knew what I wanted from the moment I saw you.”

“I know, süße,” he assures her.

She softens and finishes her wine, then leans forward and kisses him deeply. “I love you.”

His lips twitch against hers and she shares a surge of joy with him.

“I love you too,” he replies.

She sighs, quiet and content, and says, “I don’t think the storm is going to stop.”

He shakes his head, amused, and finishes his beer. He leaves a bill on the table and they get up together, taking hands. Kala pops her umbrella as they step outside, thunder grumbling distantly, and tries to hold it to shield them both. Wolfgang takes it from her because he’s taller, and she nestles against him while they walk.

The rain comes down in sheets around them and grit from the road gathers on their shoes. Kala shivers in the unexpected chill and he thumbs over her side. He sinks in the anticipation that he gets to be alone with her soon. They’ve made love every night since arriving, and most of the mornings, and sometimes during the day, but they crave each other regardless. The chance to be together, uninterrupted, to give themselves to each other without distraction, has reinforced the intimacy that their busy lives sometimes compromise.

They agree to leave the motorcycle parked where they left it, finding it too rainy to ride, and then they take the underground to the station nearest their hotel. Kala holds the umbrella while Wolfgang tucks their metro passes into his wallet, and as a gust of wind whistles through the corridor of buildings, the umbrella inverts and flies away from her.

Wolfgang glances indignantly at her as the rain pours down on them. She laughs and covers her face playfully, then links arms with him and takes off at a run towards their hotel. He laughs and they slip and stumble on the wet pavement, holding each other up, blood rushing to their cheeks. They reach the hotel after a moment and step inside the entrance, both panting, drenched. Kala tips her head back and gives a throaty, joyful laugh, the rain sticking in her hair like pixie dust. Wolfgang holds her close, forehead to hers, and they share a lingering kiss and sway slightly.

She looks at him with a specific want in her eyes and he nods gently, solemnly, and walks with her across the lobby to the elevators.

They reach their room, which is messy, organization neglected in favor of sex and late night conversations. Kala trembles from cold as she puts on a soft light.

“Let’s take a bath,” she murmurs.

He nods, softening at the thought of feeling her slick skin under his hands. She meets his eyes over her shoulder and goes into the bathroom to run the water, but he stays still for a moment. It seems impossible that this woman intends to spend the rest of her life with him, but he knows her feelings as if they are his own, and he reminds himself that she has never wavered in loving him, even when he feels she should have.

He takes a moment to loosely make their bed, smirking softly when he finds some of Kala’s lingerie among the sheets. By the time he steps into the bathroom, the space is filled with fragrant steam and she is naked, leaning to pour crystalline salt into the hot water. He pauses, instantly tense and hungry, and his eyes linger on her dark nipples. His breath quickens when she turns and bends to shut the water off.

He stares between her legs, then at her breasts as they sway slightly from the movement of her body, and his cock stiffens. The memory of her moaning loudly last night comes to him and he clenches his jaw so he isn’t pulled under the current. He wants to lift her in his arms, toss her onto the bed, and fuck her until they’re both weak, but he knows she intends to make him wait.

She meets his gaze when she turns around, her eyes soft and inviting, and he takes a deep breath, smiling. She smiles too, more teasingly, and closes the distance between them.

“Hi,” she breathes on his lips, latching her arms around his neck.

He slides his hands over her ass but doesn’t speak.

“Do you like to watch me?” she murmurs.

He raises his eyebrows slightly but remains quiet

“What would you like?” she asks, her hand finding his cock through his jeans.

He looks down, watching her slim fingers around the bulge in his pants, then lower, studying the tuft of soft hair on her pussy and the way her thighs gently kiss. He loves how soft her body is, the way she fits his shape and melts around his touch; he doesn’t know where his body begins or ends when he is with her.

He lets his breath out through his nose and glances at the bath, a silent answer to her question, and she begins to unbutton his shirt. He tucks one hand between her legs and swishes his fingers on her folds; her knees buckle slightly and she groans, satisfied, head tilted back. She breathes in as he slips his fingers into her.

“I’ve wanted this all day,” she whispers.

He thumbs over her clit. “Wanted what?”

She tries to steady herself and he smirks gently, enjoying her restraint.

“I wanted to feel your fingers inside of me,” she whispers.

“What else?” he asks.

She shakes her head, trembling. “Please get in with me….”

He nods and she unzips his pants. She helps him out of his clothes so he’s nude too and he notices her glance linger on his cock. He holds her from behind and kisses her neck as they walk to the bath.

They sink into the water together, him behind her, and she lets her head rest on his shoulder as he squeezes her breasts. She breathes out and he feels her body loosen, so he takes a bar of soap into his hands and lathers it, then glides his soapy hands over her arms. She murmurs her approval and tilts her chest up, asking him to touch her breasts again. He softly pinches her nipples and she moans, then giggles, then moans again and tucks her face into his neck.

“Your fingers,” she murmurs.

He squeezes each nipple and brushes gently over them. Then he slips a hand between her legs and begins to finger her, his movement creating small waves in the tub; the water electrifies his touch and she arches, moaning unusually loud. He kisses her neck, one hand on her breast, the other drawing a slow pattern on her clit. Even in the water, she’s slippery and hot, and his cock swells larger by the minute as she voices her pleasure and gasps.

He settles lower in the water, her body close against his, and he draws his hand down her thigh. He thought the surprise and originality of making love when they were unfamiliar with each other could never be surpassed, but comfortable, habitual sex has eclipsed this experience; his curiosity and hunger only grows as the days pass.

“Oh,” she whispers as he spreads her folds and thrusts a finger into her.

He likes to make her come with his fingers alone. He breathes in, kissing her under her ear, and she opens her legs wider and moans quietly. He pulls his fingers up to caress her other breast and she lets her head fall back further, breathing out hard.

“Oh God,” she says, barely audible. “This is how you always touched me in those dreams...”

He kisses the back of her neck, sucking to leave a soft mark, and grazes his teeth over the sensitive spot. He trails his hand once more between her legs and strokes her, barely inside, just enough pressure to make her tremble and groan.

He shushes her, smirking. “I’ve only touched you for a minute, be patient.”

She exhales, needy, and turns so she’s straddling him. He brightens, amused, and slides his hands over her ass; she tilts her chest up so her breasts are close to his face and he takes one nipple into his mouth, glancing at her, and then the other, which he nips just sharply enough to make her arch her back and gasp. The water swells and crashes in a gentle wave on the side of the tub and he lifts up, rubbing his cock between her legs.

“Ooh, mm,” she murmurs, giggling.

He grins, nudging her nose with his own, and then glides the head of his cock over her clit. She tilts her head back, moaning openly, and he grips her close, kissing her between her breasts, and restoring a keen, solemn tone. He wants to be inside of her, but he also wants to indulge her and touch her until she’s barely coherent. She presses her hips closer to him and he groans quietly, then kisses her and wraps his arms around her middle. She opens her mouth and he tongues over her bottom lip, then tugs it in his teeth playfully. She moans and laughs at once, then pulls away and brushes her swollen lips over his temple, his cheekbone, and the bridge of his nose. Then she tilts and kisses his neck and his ear and he makes a quiet, deep sound of approval.

“Do that more often,” he murmurs.

She licks the shell of his ear and mumbles, “Okay…” She smiles. “I like how your sweat tastes, is that strange?”

He chuckles and nuzzles into her neck. “No.”

“Other things, too,” she says softly, pulling back and glancing briefly into his eyes.

He raises his eyebrows and takes her breasts in his hands. “I like those things too.” He kisses her. “Your pussy tastes sweet.”

“Wolfgang,” she whimpers.

“Hm?” he asks, unfazed, pressing his mouth into the notch under her jaw and nibbling her here.

She moans. “Oh...oh God I love it when you talk to me like this…”

He grins and squeezes her breasts hard. She moans again, more overwhelmed, and leans back, sending a noisy wave across the tub.

“I know how I taste,” she whispers after a pause. “You make me suck on your fingers sometimes after you…”

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I love watching you do that…”

She smiles takes one of his hands in hers, then lifts it and touches his fingers gently to her bottom lip. He breathes out hard and plucks at her lip before letting it spring back into place. Then he slips his index finger into her mouth and she sucks on it, meeting his eyes. He pulls it out after a moment and draws a line with it over her chin, chest, and in between her breasts.

“Why do you like that?” she asks him.

“Reminds me of your lips around my cock,” he replies.

She blushes. “Oh.”

He laughs. “How are you still this shy?”

“I…” She laughs too. “I’m not shy about the actions but the _words_ …”

He watches her closely, his hands on her hips, and says quietly, “Want me to fuck you?”

“Wolfgang…”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he repeats, smirking now. “Tell me.”

“I…”

“In those words,” he adds.

She stops breathing and he looks at her intently, unwilling to compromise. He squeezes her sides and brings her closer, touching his nose to hers and breathing out on her mouth.

“Say it,” he instructs.

She swallows, closes her eyes, and whispers very softly, “Fuck me.”

“I can’t believe I got you to say that,” he laughs, adding, “again.”

“Fuck me, please,” she says, trembling.

He nips her bottom lip. “One more time.”

“Wolfgang--”

“Or I’ll make you wait.”

She groans, a mixture of pleasure and frustration, and murmurs, “Please fuck me.”

He grins slowly and looks at her. “I’m going to make you say that all the time now--”

“Wolfgang,” she says impatiently, hands tightening on his shoulders.

His mouth twitches in satisfaction and amusement and he nudges her to get up. She does quickly, wrapping a towel around herself. He smirks and tugs it away, then slaps her ass hard, and she looks at him over her shoulder with a scandalized expression. He shakes his head innocently and shrugs.

“Wasn’t me--”

“Oh my God,” she whispers, laughing.

He laughs too and follows her to the bed, which she falls back onto, smiling, cheeks dark and eyes bright. She opens her legs and he settles on top of her, meeting her in a deep kiss; he doesn’t wait a moment before guiding his cock against her entrance and thrusting into her hard. She groans happily and then gasps as he thrusts into her again, rough and insistent, pace much faster than she’s used to at the beginning of sex.

“Yes,” she mumbles against his lips.

He tucks his face into her neck and kisses her here, and she locks her wet legs around his waist and matches his rhythm with her hips, moaning continuously as the minutes wear on. He groans quietly after a while, licking her jawline to her chin, and she chases his lips hungrily; they kiss, overheated, and she stretches her hips wider as he moves inside of her.

“Oh!” she cries breathily. “Oh….Wolfgang, Wolfgang...I’m already so -- _ah!_ ”

“Close?” he asks coolly.

She moans and nods desperately. He licks a stripe up her throat and kisses her under her ear, and then he guides her legs up so her calves are resting on each of his shoulders. She inhales, surprised, and he begins to thrust into her more quickly.

“Oh, you...you feel bigger like this,” she whispers.

This was his intention so he smiles and makes a noise of confirmation, then kisses her; she moans into his mouth and tangles her fingers in his hair, and he braces his hands on the mattress for leverage and drives into her. She whines and gasps, breath coming in short bursts. He moans and his fingers helplessly twitch in the sheets.

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

She cries out softly and nods as he increases his pace. Then she bursts out, all breath, as if she was holding in the words for hours, “Fuck me harder.”

He groans at these words and does as she asks. They moan together through a messy kiss and then she holds her breath, trembles hard, and comes with a soft scream of “yes, God, Wolfgang, yes!” He comes a moment later, sweat beading on the tip of his nose and falling onto her lips; he grunts, muscles abruptly lax, and rests heavily on top of her. She combs her hand tiredly through his hair, catching her breath, and slides her legs down so they are loose around his waist; he tucks his arms under the small of her back and hugs her against him.

She giggles exhaustedly and nestles her face into his neck.

“I’ve never said that word in my life,” she murmurs.

“I’m a bad influence,” he replies, unconcerned.

“You are,” she says affectionately, adding in a shy tone, “I liked...that position.”

He lifts up and grins playfully at her, tucking her hair out of her face. “Yeah?”

She blushes and nods. “Yes.”

He nods and kisses her. “Me too.”

He shifts onto his back and she follows his movement, wrapping one of her legs around his waist and nuzzling her face into his neck. She pulls back to look into his eyes and they both grin, then laugh and rub their noses together.

“Next time,” she murmurs excitedly, “let’s have sex in the tub.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, surprised by her. “I love you.”

Her nose wrinkles joyfully. “I love you.” She smiles. “Or on the bathroom counter…”

“Both,” he murmurs

She laughs and nods. “Yes.”

He kisses her and they press closer, meeting each other’s eyes, and then she smirks, stretches for the phone, and orders two large servings of ice cream from the hotel’s restaurant.


End file.
